The Knight's Shadow
DUTY'S BURDEN, CONSCIENCE'S WHISPER
_Personal Log, Agent R. Thorne. Cycle 37, Sector 4._
Another one. Another lost soul, another anomaly contained. The reports will be clinical, efficient. "Threat neutralized. Collateral minimal." But the eyes… I see the terror in their eyes, even as the anima fades, even as their form unravels. Were they truly a threat? Or just… touched? Twisted by something we barely comprehend, then put down like a rabid dog.
The oath. The Order. Protecting humanity from what lies beyond the Veil. I repeat the words like a mantra, a shield against the creeping doubt. But the shield is thin, worn. Each time, a piece of myself goes with them. A piece of my conviction. How many shades of grey must we navigate before we become the very darkness we fight?
They say ignorance is bliss. Sometimes, I wish I could go back to not knowing. To a world where the monsters were just stories, where the shadows held no form. But the bell has rung, the sleep is over. And now, all I hear is the cacophony of a world tearing at its seams. And my part in it. The blood on my hands. Is it for the greater good? Or just… good enough? The quiet moments are the worst. When the buzzing of the world recedes, and all that's left is the whisper of conscience. And it asks, relentlessly: at what cost, Thorne? At what cost?
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