[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/krDrRUi.png[/img]
[color=254f28][u][b]Location[/b][/u][/color]
💀 Mafioso Mansion - Underground Warehouse.

[color=254f28][u][b]Time[/b][/u][/color]
💀 Evening.

[color=254f28][u][b]Interactions[/b][/u][/color]
💀 [@Jumbus]
💀 [@Danvers]
[/center][hr]

Joseph’s second rune had initiated its purpose, beyond Azhar’s knowledge. It was only when the boy’s bloodlust faded, and was replaced by nauseous melancholy that the pain in his hand trickled to the surface. Where droplets of black blood traced a path down the mutant’s pale appendage, Zee noted the wound’s shape slowly closing, yet again the courtesy of a man he had previously chastised. It was impossible to tell exactly how disastrous the outcome would have been if Azhar’s sanity remained fractured. Who would he have proceeded to hunt? Where would bloodlust and a desire for death have led him? The monster could not claim to be blissfully unaware of what had transpired. He remembered every second, every intoxicating moment of ever-growing power. The dark 'Hero' wanted to claim that someone else took control, that a different individual entirely wrapped their clawed hands around his throat and confiscated Azhar’s mind. That would, however, be a lie. 

Throughout the boy’s life, Azhar had been told that he was a force of Death. He was the very opposite of Life, and a mockery of its visage. Something that could be dotted with a mere glance. Where Life radiated color, Azhar afforded onlookers little more than a monotone scale of grey, white, and black. Additionally, where a mother’s love had, however, maintained Azhar’s warm heart, he could not say the same for his father. A man he proved right, this day. A less than desirable gestalt in the young monster's life who had always waited for his son’s collapse, when the Devil truly took hold. 

Trembling, it was a far-fetched feat for the deathly mutant to register his surroundings. Still in shock, the massive strike against his state of mind vibrated mercilessly against every thought. The creature's father echoed across ripples of time, a lapse from early years until recent, unwanted exchanges. Words of discouragement, warnings of what was to come if Azhar remained free. 

Despite his ceaseless tears, voices were beginning to slowly caress Zee’s pointed ears, his attention stolen by an individual Azhar had yet to meet. A dark-skinned young man he could not place, nor identify. What was it that he had said? It was impossible to clarify. Though silence lingered between them, the boy was very much struggling to comprehend even the simplest of developments. A spoken word, an added presence, simplicity at its finest wrapping itself around complication and difficulty.

[i]’You are safe now,’[/i] Azhar managed to deduce, [i]’HERO reinforcements..,’[/i] it continued. Slowly, the monster lifted his head, tears coating his cheeks, to fully meet the young man’s gaze with his own. Azhar was never unsafe. He didn’t require reinforcements, no. The situation was ironically reflective, but in another manner, entirely. No, Zee was never at risk. Everyone else was, however, and he was the unfortunate reason. 

Attempting to speak through the sniffles, Azhar flinched as he saw a shoe heading towards the mysterious visitor. That voice, the string of words echoing across the warehouse only moments before footwear was being thrown, he could identify it. Brie. Mere seconds passed before she approached the broken mutant, her green eyes meeting his own. She called the stranger ‘Doppel’, a codename Azhar had heard in the past. However, he had never come across the Hero. [color=254f28]"I..,"[/color] Zee tried, raising a hand towards his face before wiping tears from silken pale skin. [color=254f28]"The.., the others..,"[/color] he continued, pointing a claw deeper into the warehouse. [color=254f28]"They went that way..,"[/color] he finished, completely ignoring questions aimed at him. 

In truth, Zee did not know how to respond. ‘Stop crying’, and ‘Are you okay?’ Words he was unable to truly meet. How many had Azhar killed, only moments prior? Fifty people? More? One would have to count the many clothes scattered throughout, before settling on a number. Attempting to stand, Azhar still felt his heart pounding against the surface of his ribs. He dreaded the eventual count, rather lowering his gaze to the floor, before turning towards the Hero dubbed ‘Doppel’. Distance was being kept, which was a reaction Zee was all too familiar with. After what had come to pass, none could blame Doppel. 

Raising his arms towards himself, the deathly boy attempted a pitiful embrace of his scrawny shape, those large, obsidian orbs shifting to Brie. [color=254f28]"Are you..,"[/color] once more, Azhar wiped his tears. [color=254f28]"Are you okay..?"[/color] The situation was, despite everything, being handled. As Doppel had said, reinforcements were coming, and whoever else required aid in the mansion was most certainly getting it. As for Azhar, he required a moment to collect himself. A moment to brace his mind for the countless nightmares to come.