[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/240813/861be34d9bbf4c4e5c34098a3307f91d.png[/img][/center] She was telling him what he already knew, while spouting words of treachery out loud for even him to hear. Mercy's tongue slithered out, as if to taste her hatred of the Wilds, a putrid, sulfurous substance dripping down onto the ground as he licked his teeth in thought. Did they truly think his kin so easily manipulated? Perhaps he should play along, for now. Humans were born with the insatiable need to slay each other after all, before they even knew of entities like himself. "Var mor," said the Devourer to them all, a low rumble thundering through his chest, reverberating onto the ground. Pieces of dirt rattled from the resonant sound; he turned his gaze to the one called VV. "Var hal, Coronal ik ar!" The sound rose from the fanged maw, ending in a cry that sounded like gnashing metal and rusted hinges, piercing the desolate air. They would die, they were weak, the King was strong! His words were no warning, but a mere statement of the truth. "Sal linta val mor. Deshu... sal wenta." He would watch them perish, then he would eat them, too. "Teshuel arael." The hearts they had taken, he would take back as vengeance. His eyes went to the one full of care, savoring how her goodness twisted into fear and anguish. Yes, this lot would do very nicely. She and her companion -the one who knew the words of his kin- seemed to look to his prize with hope. The whiff of it disgusted him. He had to suck that poisonous hope out, like the tender marrow from their fragile, puerile bones. But how? The answer came in an outstretched hand, the one who offered ignorant in the suffering he was about to receive. Mercy peered into his mind, that great crown of pain that poured darkness into his heart. Each piece of the human's thoughts, all that he had ever felt, it wafted up into Mercy's own senses, like incense for a forbidden, malevolent god. [i]"Val... No. Izaac,"[/i] he whispered, the voice quite tender. It was the croon a slavering beast gave in thanks, as its jaws closed upon a throttled neck. [i]"You worthless, wretched child. You let them hurt you, because you want it to hurt."[/i] As the Devourer leeched into Val's thoughts, the human would feel a force akin to tendrils closing in around his chest. [i]You seek kindness in murderers, and place trust in traitors. Foolish being. Give thanks, for today, our paths have crossed. I will grant you that which you seek. But be under no illusions that your fortunes have changed. You will never find peace, Izaac Valentino."[/i] The pressure around the man's heart would rise, escalating into blinding pain, the agony of a thousand barbed needles piercing into the cavity of his chest, flooding it with an ancient, forlorn hatred. His ears would ring with the sound of all the anguished cries of those he had loved and slaughtered. [i]"I am Mercy, the Great Devourer! I forgive you for your weakness... and I grant you a second chance to seek your vengeance."[/i] Only Val would hear his venomous offer, and there was no way he could turn back. Not when it was he whose hand reached out first, to seek the beast. In the passing of a breath, the colossal wild would disappear like the ether, choosing instead to reside within his host, fertile with fresh hurts and future fears.