Asef began to revisit the one thing that had always given him fuel: his brother.
Efsa.
The hero.
The golden boy of their world.
And slowly, Asef's bitterness became an obsession.
He started doing things he hadn't done since he was a child.
He went back to the city. Not to live, not to reconnect—but to undo.
To desecrate.
He tore down posters with his brother's face on them.
Ripped banners. Burned printed flyers. Scribbled mocking phrases over the shining name "Efsa the Savior."
But it wasn't just petty vandalism.
He even impersonated his brother sometimes—putting on a uniform that looked like Efsa's, copying his tone and stance.
Then he'd walk through certain districts and make a show of cruelty, bullying citizens, insulting shopkeepers, pushing others around.
It was calculated.
It was twisted.
It was childish.
But it worked.
