Sometimes, people never realize the consequences of their actions until those consequences arrive with devastating force, demanding acknowledgment.
Damian had built an organization. Had recruited people. Had given them purpose and direction and hope that things could be different.
But he'd never truly considered what would happen when the established order fought back with everything they had.
Had never accounted for the cruelty that power could inflict when threatened.
Had never protected the people who mattered most to those who followed him.
And now the consequences stood before him, burning in flames that couldn't erase the horror of what had happened.
His mental state, already unstable from the Devourer Body Art's side effects, from the hallucinations, from the accumulated trauma of two lifetimes, finally fractured under the weight.
This wasn't the cold, calculating Mafia boss who'd orchestrated an organization's rise.
