1 Extortion and Regret

A disheveled man, with unkempt hair and tattered clothes, gazed at the dark sky and shouted, "Oh, my demigod!" This ritualistic outburst stemmed from the seemingly sentient presence within his mind. But as the words escaped his lips, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, regret gnawing at him. Though there were few people around at that late hour, he couldn't help but feel ashamed of his alter ego's antics.

Despite the unsettling chaos that often ensued when his alter-ego took control, the man couldn't deny the immense help it had been to him over the years. His unpredictable companion had saved his life countless times, but at the same time left a trail of destruction in his wake. The man had lost count of the innocent bystanders who had fallen victim to his alter-ego's madness. It was a macabre game of life and death, one to which he had regrettably grown accustomed.

After a few minutes of relaxing under the moonlight, he decided it was time to find a place to rest. He needed to recharge his energy before facing another day of battling his inner turmoil. But first, he needed to find the nearest inn.

As he walked down the dimly lit streets, he encountered a burly man leisurely strolling in the night. "Excuse me," the jumbled man said, his voice weary, "could you point me in the direction of the nearest inn?

The rugged stranger sighed and said, "Look, if you want a good night's sleep, don't go to that inn. It's got hard beds and rude staff. Sure, it's cheap—I stayed a week for five silvers—but it's not worth it. Trust me, just head to the inn farther away. It's pricier but way better."

The unkempt man shrugged. "I don't mind all that. I just need a place to stay. If it's cheap, that's even better." He thanked the stranger and continued on his way, feeling a sense of relief that he would at least have a roof over his head for the night.

"That fellow seemed quite pleasant," the sly voice in his head remarked, its tone tinged with mischief. "But imagine the thrill if you managed to take him out without anyone noticing. The chaos that would ensue when his absence is discovered would be priceless." The voice chuckled, filling his thoughts with images of devious plotting and stealthy murder.

Thorne shrugged it off, trying to focus on the task at hand, lest he falls into his alter ego's desires. He had received directions from a stranger and had finally arrived at the dilapidated inn. The building looked like it could collapse at any moment, with peeling paint and boarded-up windows. Thorne sighed, wondering if this was the best he could do for lodging.

As he stepped inside, he was greeted by a short, obese man behind the counter who introduced himself as the innkeeper. "Name and occupation?" the innkeeper asked, eyeing the man suspiciously.

"Thorne. I'm a simple farmer. Why all the questions? Is there something wrong?" Thorne replied, his anger starting to simmer.

The innkeeper eyed Thorne's rugged appearance up and down and then chuckled. "Just being cautious. You never know what can happen nowadays, especially with all the strange things going on. I thought these questions were very reasonable based on the circumstances."

Thorne's alter-ego couldn't resist interjecting. "How dare he look down on us. This rotund man could win a gluttony contest!" he angrily blurted out in Thorne's mind.

Thorne ignored the comment, used to the constant barrage of insulting words seeping from his alter-ego. Instead, he focused on getting a room for the night, hoping that the inn wouldn't be as bad as it looked from the outside.

The innkeeper's sly grin stretched across his face as he declared, "A room will set you back 20 silvers."

Thorne knew he was being extorted, but he didn't have the energy to argue. He was just grateful to have a roof over his head for the night. He fumbled around in his pockets, searching for the coins. It was a strange feeling as there was no balance in the oddly shaped contents. After a brief moment of embarrassment, he handed over the silvers with a sweaty hand.

The innkeeper angrily snatched the coins from him, impatience etched on his face. "Follow me to your room," he grumbled, hobbling off to show Thorne to his accommodations.

The room was small and cramped, with a musty smell that made Thorne's nose wrinkle. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the bed, grateful for the chance to rest after a long day of traveling.

But his alter ego had other plans. "I think we should go back to finish the job," it pestered, its voice echoing in Thorne's mind.

"Enough already, just go to sleep. We both know we don't have the energy to make it there at the moment," Thorne retorted, his words edged with irritation.

The demonic voice in his head let out a low chuckle. "Oh, come on, Thorne. Where's your sense of adventure? We could go on a little hunt, maybe find a victim or two. It'll be fun. Weren't you just complaining about having no money yesterday anyways?" the voice cajoled, tempting Thorne with ideas of violence and chaos.

Thorne shook his head, trying to block out the voice. "Will you knock it off already? I'm done with your twisted games for tonight. It's time to call it a day. You can annoy me about this useless shit tomorrow," he replied firmly, his resolve hardening. He turned over and shut his eyes. He was far too exhausted to deal with the constant taunting of the voice.

Thorne let out a deep sigh, knowing that reasoning with his alter ego was like trying to talk sense into a brick wall. The voice had been a constant presence in his mind since childhood, a dark shadow that he couldn't seem to shake off no matter how hard he tried.

As frustrating as it was, Thorne had come to accept that his alter ego was a part of him, for better or for worse. And he couldn't deny that it did have its perks - when the alter ego took over, Thorne gained access to powerful magic that he couldn't tap into on his own. It made him a formidable opponent, a force to be reckoned with.

The spells his alter-ego could cast were incredibly potent, which was strange considering he had no formal training. His alter ego seemed to have an innate understanding of magic.

"There are multiple low-IQ guards currently surrounding the area like a bunch of ants." Thorne's frustration boiled over at his alter ego casually mentioning that they were surrounded by guards.

"Not even five minutes have passed, and I was just about to fall asleep when you say stupid shit like this. We haven't slept for almost four days! Let's just go to sleep and we can deal with it tomorrow." Thorne replied, attempting to fall asleep.

"No...there's really...whatever, we can just die, I guess," the alter ego replied dismissively.

Thorne's alter-ego, Galen, had a tendency to cause trouble for Thorne, making his life more complicated than it already was, which is why it was easy to dismiss some of Galen's claims. Thorne had set up sentry traps near the inn to ensure his safety, but when he sensed danger, he knew that Galen wasn't messing around. The guard had triggered one of the traps, causing an alert to ping directly into Thorne's head, signaling that trouble was on the horizon.

Thorne rubbed his eyes, his head drooping as he struggled to stay awake after enduring four days of Galen's antics. He finally decided to let Galen take the reins. "Alright, I see you're not messing around. Let's just get it over with. You can deal with this, I'm going to get some rest," Thorne said, resigning himself to Galen's whims.

Galen then began to move forward as the primary consciousness as Thorne became the secondary.

Galen praised Thorne's decision with a sarcastic tone. "What an excellent choice. You won't regret relinquishing control to me. Well, these people might," Galen said, hinting at the chaos he was about to unleash.

Thorne's panic rose at the mention of "these people," and he implored Galen not to wreak further havoc. "Please, don't kill everyone again! We've had enough chaos from your actions these past few days. All I want is some sleep!" Thorne's voice cracked with desperation. His constant evasion of guards, a direct result of Galen's antics, was likely the reason they were being pursued now.

Galen chuckled at Thorne's concern. "Relax, I'm just going to solve your problem and then some. You'll be able to get all the sleep you want after this. You can thank me afterward," he said before completely taking over Thorne's consciousness.

The guard's triumph proved fleeting as he bore witness to the immense power Galen wielded. "Nobody told me you were a bloody mage!" he shouted, his face turning pale as he fumbled for his shield in a desperate attempt to protect himself. Despite his frantic attempts at defense, the guard was obliterated by a massive explosion, leaving a path of destruction in its wake.

As Galen took control, the air grew heavy with his sinister aura. His eyes glowed with supernatural power, and he whispered an incantation. "Nova Annihilation of All Life." Energy pulsed from his body, rippling and distorting the very fabric of reality. A blinding white circle materialized around him, expanding outward with an ear-splitting roar.

Within seconds, the entire area was engulfed in an explosive burst of energy. The force of the blast reduced everything and everyone within a half-mile radius to dust and rubble. The innkeeper, guards, and guests never stood a chance. All that remained was a barren wasteland of debris, with nothing but silence and desolation.

Galen spoke to Thorne in a menacing tone, "Consider that a lesson for allowing the innkeeper to extort you for 20 silvers. You can have your body back now." Thorne, still reeling from the shock, could only manage a feeble response before Galen retreated into a deep slumber.

As Thorne regained consciousness, the gravity of his situation struck him. He knew he needed to act quickly to escape the devastation before discovery. Driven by frantic exhaustion, Thorne fumbled in his pocket for a mana potion and downed it hastily. He swiftly removed his clothes and cast a complex illusion spell on himself, intending to blend in with the debris and remain concealed.

"I owe you one, illusion magic..." Thorne whispered weakly, collapsing onto the debris.