Chapter 2 ( Massacre ARC )

Sean stood frozen in the bandit camp, a statue amid the carnage.The air reeked of blood and bowels, the ground slick with the ruins of the men he’d slaughtered skulls caved in like rotten fruit, 

intestines strewn like discarded ropes, bodies twisted in poses of final agony. Eira’s screams pierced the haze, his severed arm spurting crimson as he collapsed, begging for mercy that wouldn’t come. 

Ayumi’s sobs joined the chorus, her throat wound bubbling blood, her eyes once his salvation now hollow with fresh horror as bandits dragged her toward their lair. 

Sean’s mind fractured, a whirlwind of echoes: the wolves’ jaws tearing his flesh, Ayumi’s body violated under laughing shadows, Eira’s arm hacked off because of him. 

“What should I do?” he whispered, the words lost in the symphony of pain.Then, something stirred deep within a cosmic rumble, like stars colliding in his soul. 

The Cosmic Dragon’s presence flared, its starry eyes burning in his vision. “Awaken, child of slaughter,” it hissed, voice like cracking void. 

Sean’s veins ignited, starfire surging not just to heal, but to unleash. His eyes glowed with nebulae, humanity dissolving in a tide of rage. He didn’t think; he became.

A bandit lunged from the shadows, blade aimed for his neck. Sean moved like a storm his fist shot out, shattering the man’s jaw in a spray of teeth and bone, 

then drove deeper, caving the chest with a wet crunch. The bandit gurgled, blood foaming, but Sean didn’t stop. 

He grabbed another by the throat, squeezing until eyes bulged and popped, then ripped the head clean off with a twist, spinal cord trailing like a bloody whip. 

A third swung an axe; Sean caught the haft, snapping it like kindling, then plunged the splintered end into the bandit’s eye, twisting until brains oozed. 

Screams filled the air as he tore through the remnants guts yanked out and wrapped around necks to strangle, limbs hacked with their own weapons, faces stomped into pulp under his boot. 

Blood painted him, starry veins pulsing brighter with each kill, the Cosmic Dragon’s laughter echoing in his skull: “Yes, feed the beast.” By the end, the camp was a slaughterhouse, 

bodies mangled beyond recognition, the ground a mire of viscera. Sean stood panting, drenched in red, the massacre complete. But the power didn’t fade it evolved.

As the starfire cooled, a new sensation bloomed: healing, not just for himself, but radiating outward. His traumas physical and mental had forged it, the Cosmic Dragon’s cruel lesson. 

What once mended only his own broken flesh now pulsed with intent, a force he could wield. Eira lay dying, his stump a ragged mess, face pale as death. 

Sean knelt, unthinking, and pressed a hand to the wound. Starlight flowed from his palm, veins glowing as flesh knitted, bone reformed, skin sealed in a searing glow. Eira gasped, eyes wide in shock and awe. “What… are you?”

Ayumi, slumped against a tree, her throat wound seeping, looked up through tears. Sean touched her too, the starfire mending the slash, easing the bruises from her violation. 

She shuddered, breath steadying, but her eyes held no light only shadows of what she’d endured. “Sean…” she whispered, voice hoarse.

He pulled back, the power settling like a weight in his chest. He’d learned it through force, his soul battered into shape by endless pain. But it changed nothing the guilt remained. 

“I have to go,” he said, voice hollow, standing amid the dead. “If you stay with me… you’ll suffer more. Everyone does.”

Eira pushed himself up, his new arm trembling, whole but marked with faint starry scars like Sean’s own. “Kid, you saved us. Don’t ”

“No,” Sean cut in, eyes distant, the traumas replaying: wolves’ teeth, Ayumi’s screams, Eira’s blood. “I bring this. 

The massacre… Ayumi’s pain… your arm. It’s because of me. The dragon chose me, but it’s a curse. 

Stay away, or you’ll end up like them.” He gestured to the mutilated corpses, his voice cracking for the first time, a flicker of the boy beneath the monster. 

Eira met his gaze, seeing the torment, and nodded slowly, tears unshed. “You’re right. But… thank you. For giving me a chance to fight another day.”

Ayumi rose shakily, her torn clothes hanging like rags, her spirit fractured but unbroken. 

She unbuckled her katana, the blade that had been her companion through hunts and horrors, its hilt worn from her grip. “Take this,” she said, voice trembling as she pressed it into his hands. 

The steel was cool, etched with faint runes from her village a symbol of her lost family, her defiance. Sean’s fingers closed around it, the weight heavy with meaning. “Ayumi, I can’t ”

“You must,” she insisted, her eyes locking on his, a final spark of the hope she’d given him. “It’s all I have left. You saved me… even if it hurts to say. Use it to survive. 

But promise me don’t let this world turn you into nothing but rage.” Her hand lingered on his, a touch that burned with what could have been, then pulled away. 

Sean nodded, throat tight, the katana a reminder of his failures and her strength. They stood in silence, the farewell a knife to the heart Eira clasping his shoulder one last time, 

Ayumi turning away with a quiet sob. Sean walked into the shadows, leaving them behind, the bond severed to protect what little they had left.

Alone in the wilderness, Sean faced his greatest enemy: himself. The katana at his side, he wandered deeper into the forest, away from roads and villages. 

His mind was a battlefield traumas replaying in endless loops. The wolves’ jaws gnawing his bones, regenerating only to suffer again. Ayumi’s body broken under bandits’ hands, 

her eyes pleading as he watched helpless. Eira’s arm severed, blood spraying because Sean had drawn the storm. 

The prologue’s massacre flashed too his mother’s womb ripped open, his infant death, 

the Cosmic Dragon’s cold claim. Over and over, the visions assaulted him, screams echoing in his skull, guilt clawing like claws in his chest.

He isolated himself in a hidden cave, days bleeding into nights. No fire, no food beyond what he scavenged punishment for his curse. 

The Cosmic Dragon’s voice taunted from the void: “Pain is your forge, boy. Break, or become unbreakable.” Sean screamed into the dark, fists pounding rock until knuckles split, only to heal in starfire agony. 

He relived every failure, every drop of blood spilled because of him, the katana his only companion a blade he stared at, tempted to end it, but too stubborn to yield.

Slowly, the recovery began not healing, but hardening. He meditated on the traumas, forcing himself to face them without flinching. 

The wolves taught endurance Ayumi’s loss, the cost of hope Eira’s pain, the danger of bonds. 

His healing powers deepened in the solitude, a tool he practiced on self-inflicted wounds, mending flesh with focused will. 

The starfire became his ally, not just a curse strength born from suffering. But isolation was his armor; he vowed to walk alone, lest his monster touch destroy more. 

By the cave’s end, Sean emerged changed eyes colder, resolve like steel, the katana gleaming at his hip. He wasn’t healed, but he was ready to hunt the shadows that birthed him.

To be continued.