Chapter 158: Hypnosis II

Silence spread throughout the room as they all processed Damian’s words.

Then... Alaric noticed blood forming around Damian’s clenched fists, his nails digging into his palms.

"Lyandra, stop asking about his past life. Look at his hands. You’re pushing him too hard."

She looked down and immediately felt guilty, realizing she was forcing her son to relive trauma that clearly still wounded him.

"I’m sorry... I’m sorry, Damy."

She changed direction, pulling back from the deepest pain.

"Why did you torture those terrorists at the Norrington attack instead of just killing them? It seemed... excessive and completely unnecessary."

Damian’s expression shifted to confusion, genuine puzzlement evident despite the hypnosis.

"Isn’t that how you’re supposed to treat people you don’t like?"

Silence crashed through the room.

"...What?"

Lyandra exchanged shocked looks with Alaric.

Damian’s blank eyes stared past them, seeing something from his distant past.

"I remember glimpses of my childhood in that life. Very early memories from when I was extremely small. I had a big brother. Both of us lived in the alleys. Homeless and starving. We didn’t have anything to eat most days."

His voice carried a child’s confusion.

"My brother would always give me his food first. He was just a small kid himself, maybe five or six years old, but he protected me. Fed me before himself and loved me."

The room held its breath.

"But one day... one day a fat rich man came with his bodyguards. He didn’t like how we looked at him. Or maybe he was just bored. I don’t know. I never understood why."

Damian’s fists clenched tighter, blood dripping between his fingers.

"He tortured my brother in front of me. Took out his eyes while he was still conscious. Cut off his tongue so he couldn’t scream properly. Broke his fingers one by one. Did things to him I couldn’t understand at that age."

His voice remained flat, but tears were forming in his blank eyes.

"I watched and couldn’t do anything. I was too small and too weak. I just watched my brother suffer because that man didn’t like us. Like a coward!"

He blinked, tears running down his face without any change in expression.

"So isn’t that normal? Torturing people you don’t like? That’s what powerful people do to those beneath them, right? That’s just... how the world works?"

Complete horrified silence filled the living room.

The three family members sat frozen, their breathing becoming difficult, tears streaming down all their faces as understanding dawned.

’That’s why he tortured the terrorists in the same way. That’s why he showed no hesitation or remorse. His definition of ’normal’ was shaped by trauma so deep it redefined his understanding of human interaction.

To him, violence and torture aren’t excessive. They’re just... what you do to people who threaten or displease you. Because that’s what he learned watching his brother die.’

Lyandra couldn’t speak for several long moments, her heart shattering at the mental image of a small Damian – Alessio – watching his brother being destroyed.

"Hicc...hicc..."

Luna was sobbing openly now, her whole body shaking with grief for what her brother had endured in a life she’d never known.

Even Alaric had tears running down his stern face, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful.

After several minutes of heavy silence, Lyandra managed to compose herself enough to continue.

"...Tell me what happened in the portal. Why did you create that art?"

"I led volunteers to attack a Giant team because waiting for death seemed foolish. But most of them died in the first engagement. Twenty people following my orders, dead in minutes."

His voice remained emotionless.

"I escaped with three other survivors. Realized conventional fighting wouldn’t be enough. So I created a new weapon art. The Devourer Body Art. Based on principles from theoretical research and my own understanding of Aura manipulation."

"The essence was consuming Monster flesh and blood, using specialized circulation to integrate their biological advantages into my own physiology.

Transforming my body into a weapon. Making myself physically stronger than the Giants through assimilation of their genetics."

"There were side effects as well. Mental degradation, loss of rational thinking and risk of permanent damage. But I needed to do it. I needed the... power!"

Lyandra’s voice was careful.

"...Why go to such extremes? You could have survived on your own easily. You fought seven Demons before this. Surely a C grade portal wasn’t beyond your capabilities."

Damian didn’t answer immediately.

Then... a chilling smile unfolded across his blank face, transforming his features into something that made even Alaric tense.

"Indeed... I could have survived easily and hidden myself. Waiting for the portal to stabilize and escaping when the exit opened."

His smile widened.

"And I didn’t care much for the dead survivors. Yes, they were comrades. Yes, I felt sadness when they died. But everyone knew the consequences the moment they entered that portal. Death was always the most likely outcome."

"...Then why?"

Alaric’s voice was quiet, but demanding answer.

Damian leaned back further into the sofa, folding his legs, resting his chin on his right hand in a contemplative pose despite his blank, hypnotized state.

His eyes stared at the ceiling, seeing something beyond the physical room.

"I learned something fundamental in my past life. Something that shaped every decision, every action and every moment of my existence."

His voice took on a philosophical quality despite the monotone delivery.

"Power without purpose is just chaos. Strength without direction is wasted. But when you combine capability with conviction, with absolute certainty about what must be done, you become unstoppable."

"Those Giants killed MY people. Slaughtered them like they were nothing. Like their lives had no value. Like I had no value for failing to protect them."

The smile on his face became something terrible.

"And I realized something in that moment of failure. The same thing I learned watching my brother die. Watching countless people die throughout my previous life. Watching the world prove again and again that power is the only currency that actually matters."

His voice dropped to barely above a whisper, but everyone heard every word clearly.

"The Giants needed to pay! I couldn’t let them survive till the exit opened. They needed to suffer! Needed to experience the same fear and pain and helplessness they’d inflicted on my people. Needed to understand that their strength meant nothing against someone willing to become a monster like them to achieve victory."

Damian’s blank eyes focused on nothing, his expression showing a manic satisfaction.

"So I ate them! I consumed their flesh while they watched their comrades die and be eaten. Transformed myself into something that scared them more than death itself. Made them regret ever entering that portal. Made them die knowing they’d been hunted by something that enjoyed their terror."

His fists clenched, blood dripping faster.

"Every Giant that died screaming. Every warrior that begged for mercy I didn’t give. Their commander who felt fear during the last moments of his life. All of it was payment for my people’s deaths. All of it was justice for those who followed me and died because I wasn’t strong enough."