Posts from Mafia 67. Heart of the Void

I deigned to answer, little one. I see you're trying to provoke me into sending you to uncensored realms. It wouldn't be difficult, but I'm too arrogant, lazy, and selfish to waste my eloquence and the grandeur of my messages on you. )))))

- __________-

baby

sweetheart

Wow, what a cutie
When is the next Mafia game? I'd even put my diploma aside and play for such a beauty!

[1:06:57] Drakkoshka: Should we open it later, or what?
[1:07:44] Nebo: No. If anyone really needs to, they can write in the general discussions.

A lifeless body with prominent marks of huge paws on its neck fell to the feet. The monster, the embodiment of rage, still looked with a greedy gaze, with eyes full of fury, at the one who could not find peace and calm, completely forgetting about her voluntary sacrifice. Anger was taking shape and blazing, distorting the space around.
Fear whimpered and quietly retreated, hiding in the shadows, disappearing from sight. It was afraid of becoming the next victim, afraid of the terrible claws, afraid of the weapon, afraid of seeing the cruel eyes, afraid of being near the body dissolving into the Void. If fear could breathe, it would forget about it just to avoid betraying itself. But this time it was lucky. The mighty patron, the Corrupter of Minds, was nearby, he knew everything, felt everything, and he was amused by all the actions of his vassal. Small eyes sparkled, sharp, as if sharpened, teeth bared in a predatory grin, and the Endless was pierced by a loud, thin, and nasty laugh.
The terrible noise reached her ears and distracted her, her consciousness cleared, the rage subsided. The beast's mask fell away, leaving behind only a slightly indignant insatiability. She authoritatively brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. An aloof gaze, within which a fire ready to ignite at any moment lurked, swept over the ally reveling in the strange laughter and his puppet, and turned away. The fire of victory, the fire of freedom, boiled in her chest. What she had been striving for so long had come to pass, and no one could prevent it. While Panic played with the minds and feelings of others, instilling madness in the heads of his enemies, playing with them like puppets, she, Wrath, enjoyed the absolute thirst for blood, the thirst for revenge. She was created for this – to be a destroyer, unpredictable, predatory, and merciless. That is why Pity perished – there is no place for the weak, anywhere, even in Oblivion. That is why the Guardian was killed, with the help of a comrade in the chaos – there will never be order where Wrath and Panic reign. That is why the Archivist was torn to pieces – Wrath and Panic will never bring peace and apathy. And the Raven met his end because he was no longer needed by the new masters. She wanted to destroy more, but the seeds had been sown, and the minutes of heavy silence, when the Void was still trying to resist, were also beneficial. Everything was predetermined.
...Her eyes burned proudly and fiercely again, but she was herself – the form of the beast was no longer needed by the one who had conquered infinity.
In the distance, Panic continued to laugh terribly and mockingly, overflowing with the desired power over all feelings.
Her victorious cry drowned out the laughter and spread with a wild roar throughout the Endless, marking the beginning of a new era.