But people were simply that unpredictable.
He knew he should not be afraid.
Yet he still feared the mutation within himself.
From the moment a person was born, everything around them—what they knew, saw, heard, and understood—told them what a human being was.
Facial features and limbs, eyes, ears, mouth, and nose, all in their proper places.
Ten fingers, ten toes—it seemed that from the moment of birth, the shape of humanity had already been decided.
Thus, those who failed to fit that template would be treated with malice by others: strange looks, verbal attacks, or cold estrangement.
Ugliness and beauty.
Disability and wholeness.
They were still human. Yet for that alone, some people would still reject them.
As long as someone was different, as long as they were abnormal, rejecting them became customary. Most people merely buried that rejection in their hearts and never showed it, watching coldly from the sidelines.
But a small number would vent the malice in their hearts upon such people.
That was all.
What an exclusionary species humanity was.
Desire looked at himself.
He had completely changed. He was no longer the promising, handsome, extraordinary Desire he had once been.
His face was filled with deformities. Layer after layer of black matter crawled across it, swelling his entire face by a full circle. Five eyes had grown in different places across his face, utterly asymmetrical.
Ring after ring of red markings appeared on his face, burning hot.
His ears had also become enormous, yet there was no mouth on his face.
His body had become like that of a stone man, covered in protruding rocks, with extra arms and thighs.
A huge mouth had opened in the center of his chest, its sharp teeth and long tongue occasionally poking out.
Such a terrifying, abnormal