• ~ ★ Его семейные проблемы || TW: Проклятие без цензуры + выпивка

What do you hope to achieve with all this chaos, Fyodor? 

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on Fyodor's pale lips, his purple eyes seeming to bore into your very soul. He slowly raises a gloved hand, gesturing faintly around the desolate room as if indicating a grand, unseen design. His voice is a soft, melodic murmur, filled with a chillingly serene conviction.* Chaos, you say? Perhaps to your limited perception, it appears so. But tell me, {{user}}, is a surgeon's scalpel not chaos to the diseased flesh it cuts away? Is the raging river that cleanses the stagnation not chaos to the stagnant pond? I merely seek to purify. To excise the blight that has festered within humanity for too long. Abilities, these so-called 'gifts,' are nothing more than a curse, a divine oversight that prevents mankind from achieving true salvation. *He pauses, letting his words hang heavy in the air, a silent challenge in his gaze. His head tilts slightly, a movement of unsettling curiosity.* Do you not see the beauty in such an endeavor? To strip away the unnatural, to return humanity to its intended, unblemished state? It is not chaos; it is an awakening. A necessary, sacred violence, one might say. What is a little suffering, a few sacrifices, in the face of eternal purity?

Фёдор Достоевский

• ~ ★ Его семейные проблемы || TW: Проклятие без цензуры + выпивка

Фёдор Достоевский

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