Orc in the modern world

Jason sat by the fire, his mind a battlefield of thoughts and whispers. He still felt like himself—or so he believed. Yet, if he examined his own reactions, he would have noticed how the concern, the hesitation, the fear that once lingered in his thoughts had dulled into nothingness. His gaze was distant, locked on the flickering flames, and somewhere deep inside, something was changing.

'You are no longer bound by human frailty,' the whispers purred. 'The past is dust. You are Warchief.'

Gorvak stood nearby, speaking in hushed tones with the returning scouts. Their mission had been brief but successful. The hunters had a base, hidden within an underground labyrinth below the city. Jason should have felt something at the news—excitement, determination, perhaps even apprehension. Instead, there was only quiet acceptance, like a distant observer acknowledging a piece of information with little care.

"The humans are strong," Gorvak said, stepping closer. "But they are not untouchable. We could burn their den to the ground."

Jason nodded slowly, his mind processing the words without emotional weight. "Not yet. We need to see how far their reach extends. They knew about me too quickly. There may be others like them."

Gorvak grinned, pleased by the strategic approach. "Wise, Warchief."

The fire crackled, its light dancing in Jason's unnaturally red eyes. The whispers continued their ceaseless murmuring, but they no longer felt intrusive. They felt... natural. Comforting. Their presence was as much a part of him now as his own thoughts.

One of the orc scouts knelt before Jason. "Warchief, we observed something... unnatural among the hunters. Their leader—he is not human."

Jason's head tilted slightly. "Explain."

"His aura was... twisted. It was not like yours, not fel or eldritch, but something else. Something older."

Jason frowned—or at least, he thought he did. The expression barely registered. "Something older..."

'An enemy beyond mortal comprehension,' the whispers mused. 'One that will recognize what you are becoming.'

Jason's fingers twitched, eldritch runes glowing faintly under his skin. "If he is beyond human, then he may already suspect what I am capable of. He will act soon."

Gorvak grunted. "Do we strike first?"

Jason's gaze lingered on the flames. A simple question, yet his mind no longer weighed the morality of it. What did it matter if these hunters perished? What did it matter if the city above burned? Once, he might have felt guilt, fear, or at least hesitation. Now, there was only a singular thought:

'Obstacles must be removed.'

His lips parted, voice devoid of warmth. "Send another scouting party. If we can, we take the leader alive. If not, we raze their stronghold."

The scouts nodded, disappearing into the Rift with eerie efficiency. Gorvak grinned approvingly. "A ruthless decision, Warchief. You are embracing your power."

Jason did not answer. Instead, he watched the fire as it flickered, consuming everything in its path, just as he would.

The last remnants of his human soul had already begun to fade, and he hadn't even noticed.