"Time has long been meaningless, yet I still remember how many days have passed.
It is a matter of distant years that still feels as vivid as yesterday — something I have no wish to recall, yet it surges against me like waves...
In the end, it was a senseless war that could no longer be stopped. Suffering was evenly distributed onto every soul, and all were dispatched together into the grave. A mother long dead in swaddling, an infant still weeping in her arms. People who knew not where to go, collapsing with screams after the crack of sound. "They" watched on as men fought dogs for scraps of food. Such scenes, faintly mirroring hell itself, were commonplace — so much so that they became tedious.
Whether monster or human, the moment one clings to power and influence, or holds authority in their hands, they become no different from a dodder vine...
Heh... the dodder clings to the tall tree, flourishing without toil — but when the tree is felled, both perish together in the barren thorns.
The past has already been hacked apart by a thousand blades, yet hatred and bitter malice cannot be erased along with grief. Or perhaps I have already lost all of that, and only the pain remains, carving itself ever deeper into my heart.
Perhaps there were once things I held hope for, but in the end, all of them were utterly destroyed for defying someone's whims.
Heh... a disposition so absurd and contemptible that it cannot tolerate even the slightest displeasure, and must immediately destroy anything that does not suit its fancy.
Ah... merely thinking of it fills me with both ridicule and rage.
And yet, though I wish to sever everything completely, I cannot break free — bound by these fractured memories. They linger like afterimages: as though grasped, only to slip through my fingers.
When I was foolishly sketching the landscapes of hell over and over on the canvas — striving to render a vision of ultimate desolation, the violent agony and wailing as if life itself had come to an end — even when inspiration had long run dry, I still thirsted fiercely for it...
one must first cast oneself into the abyss of suffering.
And this memory, too, is loathsome. That is why, at ■■■, when I swung my blade, I did not hesitate in the slightest.
This tragedy no longer had any reason to exist.
I severed it all, and burned it to ashes.
As if all feeling had been stripped away — the memories of those long years, my very self, even my soul — all of it as though carved out in one stroke.
Now, whether it be people, matters, objects, time, or the entire world itself —
Time will advance no longer. There will be no one anymore. Nothing will ever happen again.
But hell, I suppose, will still be everywhere even hereafter.
And I shall remain trapped within it, just as a butterfly is drawn by instinct toward the bloom...
I will never be able to climb that spider's thread.
And my shadow will forever reflect the crimson of hell. "
His concept is partly inspired by Ryunosuke Akutagawa's' Hell Screen '(Hell Turn), hehe. Also, this OC started as a random idea in a group chat - we voted on whether to make him cool or cute, and everyone picked cute lol. I found that very interesting.
Anyway, if you’re interested, feel free to send me questions!
