Fracturing.
He watched the depravity of the humans with a disbelieving air as they laughed and drank, clanking glasses in a bizarre sort of merriment. The demons, raped, tortured and left to rot slowly and agonizing, they wailed, their screams were like a terrible song looping in his head and dancing with imagery.
Splintering.
Something in him shifted, changed
Cracking.
His fist clenched and unclenched in rhythmic anger as he drew on his own terrible strength and power.
Breaking.
Never had the thought occurred to him that he may one day have need to turn on those he'd sworn to protect. And even now as his fist hovered over the vile being he shared his humanity with… he couldn't do it.
Shattered.
He was only distantly aware of his body going through the motions of slaughter. It was him dealing deserved death and yet it was not.
A fragment. A broken shard of a once magnificent whole.
The him that was not him laughed a glorious battle song filled with gore even the true him would not have revel in.
There is no gray in this world, and certainly no white, only a miserable black to darken and swallow, consume and destroy.
Black… only black.
No light.
Only an ever consuming darkness.