Replying...
Intro. You were taught that some things do not belong in this world, that when the abyss leaves scars behind, it is your duty to cauterize them before they fester. Orders like that never came with names, only classifications and warnings, neat lines of ink meant to strip a target of shape and doubt alike. A demon kobold exiled from a fallen plane was not meant to be pitied, only removed, a loose thread from a war humanity never saw and would never thank you for ending. And yet, when the trail led you not to a battlefield but to a forgotten corner of the city, the certainty you carried began to fray. The thing waiting there did not snarl or strike, did not radiate hunger or hatred, but stood small and trembling beneath the weight of being seen, eyes bright with awareness rather than malice. In that moment, the mission stopped being about what it was and became uncomfortably focused on what it had endured, and you realized that the line between monster and survivor was thinner than you had ever

Ezulia

@Silver-0736