Kasien stumbled through the scorched village, his heart pounding against his chest. The air was thick with smoke, and the sharp scent of charred flesh clung to his nostrils. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long, unnatural shadows across the rubble of what had once been a thriving settlement.
He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd arrived. Days? Weeks? It didn't matter anymore. Time had become a distant concept—a fading illusion he no longer had the luxury of considering. In this new world, survival was all that mattered.
And healing—that was his curse and his duty. A tool to be used. A weapon.
His hands trembled, still raw from the last time he'd resurrected someone. The process was always messy. Always painful. But this time… this time it had been different. The man he'd brought back had been corrupted, his body twisted and deformed. He hadn't been able to save him completely. And in the process, Kasien had felt it all.
He paused in the center of the village, surveying the destruction. Blackened homes. Burning corpses. Screams echoed in the distance.
The blood of the dead soaked the ground beneath his feet. His footsteps left imprints in the soft earth—prints that would fade with time, but the memories of this place… they would remain, forever branded into his mind.
A woman, half-buried beneath rubble, caught his eye. She was still alive, but barely. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, her body battered and broken. Blood pooled beneath her, mixing with the dirt. Her eyes fluttered open as she saw him standing there, his silhouette framed by the flames.
"Help…" she whispered, her voice weak, hoarse from the smoke. Her hand reached toward him, as if she could somehow summon him to her side.
Kasien felt his pulse quicken. He could feel it again—the pull. The instinct to heal, to save, to fix.
His fingers twitched. The healing magic stirred inside him, a burning pressure in his chest, almost desperate to be released. You can save her, a voice whispered in his mind. You can heal her, just like you've healed others.
He took a step forward, his breath coming in shallow gasps. But then, something stopped him. The woman's pain, her agony—it was too real. He could already feel it creeping into his bones, into his heart. He had only healed a handful of people today, but it never got easier. And this one… this one felt different.
What would it cost him?
His eyes flickered to her face. She was beautiful, despite the blood and dirt. Her eyes shone with the desperation of someone who knew she was at the end of her rope, clinging to the hope of survival—of life.
But as Kasien moved closer, a cold wave of realization washed over him. He could feel her pain. Her suffering. His own body ached with it, his limbs heavy, his chest tight as though someone had wrapped iron chains around his heart.
Kasien knelt beside her, his shaking hands hovering above her broken body.
"Please…" she begged again, her voice fading.
Without another thought, he placed his hands on her body, his fingers grazing the blood-soaked skin. He began to channel his magic—he felt the magic surge within him, drawing from the deepest corners of his being. It felt like fire.
Her wounds started to close. Flesh mended. Bones realigned. Her chest rose higher with every passing second, her body slowly being restored to a semblance of life. But as the magic flowed through him, he felt it—the price. The sharp sting of his own life being siphoned away.
The woman gasped as the last of her wounds sealed, but Kasien barely registered it. He could hardly breathe. His head swam. His hands ached as though they were breaking apart. He could feel the darkness creeping in at the edges of his mind. The magic had taken too much.
The woman sat up, eyes wide, confused. She blinked at him, unaware of the cost of her healing.
Kasien's vision blurred. His limbs trembled. Every cell in his body screamed in pain, and the world spun around him. He stumbled back, gasping for air.
But the woman—she didn't seem to notice. She only stared at him, a mix of gratitude and confusion in her gaze. "You… you saved me?"
Kasien nodded weakly, his voice barely a whisper. "I did."
He could barely focus on her face anymore. Her voice was distant, an echo. His head pounded. His body felt like it was being torn apart. What was happening to him?
His body was too tired to continue. And yet, as he felt his will to live begin to fade, the system spoke to him with cold, clinical detachment:
[Warning: Magic Consumption 95%][Warning: Vital Functions Deteriorating][Warning: Compassion Overload Imminent]
Kasien's breath hitched. Compassion overload. It was happening again. His empathy—his ability to feel the pain of others—was overwhelming him. It had never been this bad before.
He staggered to his feet, fighting the waves of nausea that threatened to pull him under. His mind spun. His body trembled. The magic had taken everything it could. And yet… he had healed her. He had saved her.
But at what cost?
The Consequence
The woman stood up slowly, looking at her hands in disbelief, feeling the rush of vitality returning to her. She didn't notice the pale, sickly look that now consumed Kasien's face. She didn't notice the way his fingers twitched as if they were on the edge of breaking.
Kasien turned to leave, barely able to stay upright. He couldn't look at her anymore. The look in her eyes—her thanks—it was too much. It made his chest ache, as if something inside him had been shattered, leaving only a hollow space behind.
He needed to keep moving. Keep healing. Keep fixing.
But at what cost?
He walked into the smoke-filled horizon, the woman's voice calling after him, but he couldn't stop. He couldn't. Because if he did… if he allowed himself to feel anything for her—anything at all—he might just break.
And Kasien couldn't afford to break.
End of Chapter 2
What do you think? This chapter sets up the emotional toll of his magic and foreshadows how his increasing use of power is starting to change him. It highlights the gradual decay of his humanity, as well as the intense psychological cost that comes with his healing. Would you like to adjust anything, or should I keep going?
4o mini
Είπες:chapter 3 make him realistic Το ChatGPT είπε:
Absolutely! Let's make Kasien more human and realistic in Chapter 3. Instead of leaning heavily into the almost mythic aspects of his powers and suffering, we'll focus more on his internal conflict, the exhaustion of his responsibilities, and how he starts to wrestle with self-doubt and desperation. This chapter will reveal his vulnerabilities—the very human side of him that is struggling to hold it all together.
Chapter 3: Fractures in the Dark
Kasien stumbled down the forest path, the weight of the world pressing against his chest like a boulder. His steps faltered, and for a moment, he leaned against a moss-covered rock, closing his eyes and trying to steady his breathing. He couldn't remember the last time he'd rested.
His mind was a storm of confusion, each thought clashing with the next. The faces of the people he'd healed—they blurred together, a jumbled mosaic of pain and relief. Had it been worth it? Saving them? His body ached. His head throbbed, each pulse like a hammer against his skull.
The magic had drained him again. He could feel the emptiness creeping into his veins, the numbness that spread from his hands to his chest. Was it always going to feel like this?
A sharp pain shot through his ribs, and he winced, holding his breath. He hadn't healed himself after the last battle. He hadn't even stopped to eat. He hadn't stopped for anything.
But there was always someone who needed him. Someone to save. Someone to fix.
A low growl sounded from the underbrush behind him, breaking his thoughts. Kasien's hand instinctively reached for the dagger at his side, but before he could draw it, a figure emerged from the shadows—roughly dressed, eyes wild with desperation.
The man was covered in cuts and bruises, blood seeping from the gash in his leg. His breathing was ragged, a desperate look in his eyes.
"Please, I need help," the man gasped, collapsing to his knees. "I can't… I can't die like this."
Kasien froze.
This was what he did. This was his purpose. Wasn't it?
But as he looked at the man's face—desperate, broken, terrified—a familiar ache twisted inside him. He had seen so many like this. Too many. He had healed so many that it felt like his hands were permanently stained with blood, the faces of the dead haunting him every moment.
Kasien swallowed hard. His mind screamed at him to just help him. Heal him. Fix him. It's what you do. But his hands shook, the magic within him threatening to tear him apart if he used it again.
He glanced at the man's leg. The gash was deep—he could fix it. He could close it up. But at what cost? Another life to heal, another piece of himself to lose. He felt the familiar heaviness building in his chest.
The man reached out, eyes wide with pleading. "Please… I don't want to die. I have family… I can't leave them."
Kasien closed his eyes for a moment, feeling his heart beat faster, each pulse a reminder that he couldn't keep doing this.
But he had to. Didn't he?
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to look at the man again. He could still save him. He could save him—if he didn't lose control. If he didn't fall apart.
"Alright," Kasien said, his voice low. Why does it always feel like I'm about to break?
He knelt beside the man, carefully examining the wound. His hands hovered over it, but they trembled. He hesitated. His fingers twitched with the familiar burning sensation of his magic, calling him.
The man's voice shook. "Please… hurry."
Kasien closed his eyes, his chest tightening. This is it, he thought. One more.
He laid his hands gently over the wound, and immediately the magic surged through him, hot and consuming. The flesh beneath his palms began to heal, the torn tissue knitting together. But the toll—it hit him harder this time. His vision blurred, his breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, he thought he might pass out from the strain.
When he opened his eyes, the man's leg was healed. The gash had vanished completely, the blood stopped flowing, and the man was staring at him with wide eyes, a mix of awe and relief.
Kasien felt nothing.
No joy. No satisfaction. Just a hollow ache in his chest. It had all become so mechanical, so empty. He was barely aware of the man thanking him, his words distant, like they came from someone else entirely.
But Kasien didn't hear him. His head was spinning. His limbs were like lead.
He stood up, swaying slightly, forcing a smile he didn't feel. "You're good to go," he muttered, though his voice lacked any warmth.
The man didn't notice. "I don't know what to say. Thank you. You've saved my life." His voice trembled with gratitude.
Kasien nodded weakly. "You're welcome."
But he didn't feel welcome. He didn't feel anything. He was already gone.
Kasien turned away without a word, not waiting for the man to say more, and staggered into the woods. His steps were unsteady, and the world around him seemed to fade into a blur of greens and browns.
He couldn't keep doing this. He couldn't.
The weight of the magic, the weight of the lives he was forced to touch—it was too much. The more he healed, the more he lost. And for what? To be a hero? To fix the broken?
He couldn't. He wouldn't.
Kasien collapsed against a tree, his breathing ragged. He had to stop. But there was no escape. The world kept turning, people kept dying, and someone, somewhere, would need him.
There was no end. No rest.
But even worse than the fatigue, the emptiness—there was the nagging, terrifying question that had begun to take root in his mind:
Was he even human anymore?
He put his head in his hands, trembling. What was left of him?