Envy lowered his eyes, a shadow of shame crossing his face. He sighed, not out of exhaustion, but out of a wound that never healed.
"It's not a pleasant story," he said quietly. "But… you asked."
He leaned back, staring at the white crows circling above us.
"I was born into a prestigious family. Royalty, even. A house overflowing with beauty and genius — people who were born perfect. But me?"
He laughed bitterly.
"I was the runt. Mediocre face, average mind, useless in everything. The kind of kid who makes adults whisper."
His fingers trembled.
"My father used to look at me like I was a stain. And honestly? I couldn't blame him. I didn't resemble him or my siblings at all. And eventually, the truth came out…"
Clause exhaled weakly.
"My mother cheated on him. With a servant. So yes — I was officially a bastard. And do you know what hurt the most? My father's relief when he realized I wasn't his."
His expression twisted.
"I became the embarrassment of the family. The joke. Something to be discarded. Just because my mother wanted a few minutes of pleasure."
He fell into silence before continuing.
"When they threw her out, I confronted her. I asked,"
his voice cracked into a cold imitation of his younger self,
'Was it worth it? Ruining everything for both of us?'
And she…"
He grit his teeth.
"She smiled. Smiled. And said, 'Your real father was better in bed. Especially with his tongue.' Then she just kept packing her bags like none of it mattered. Like I didn't matter."
My stomach churned.
Clause's voice hardened.
"My blood boiled. I snapped. I stripped her and defiled her. Not because I wanted her — God, no — but because I wanted to destroy the thing she ruined me with."
He pointed to his scarred left eye.
"She fought back. She burned my left eye with her lighter leaving a scar that won't leave my body or soul . That beautiful face I always envied? I burned it. Slowly. Until nothing remained."
A long silence.
"When I killed her, it felt… good. And that sickened me even more."
He brushed a white crow that landed beside him.
"Before I left, I wrote them a letter. Told them the bastard and the whore were both gone. Then I vanished. Traveled the world under a new face — plastic surgery, money, luxury. But envy doesn't die. I kept wanting what everyone else had. Their faces. Their lovers. Their lives."
He looked at his hands.
"But everything I built was fake. My new life, my new face… all lies. Except for the scar. The scar was real — the only proof of who I truly was."
Clause's voice softened into something fragile.
"When I finally broke, I threw everything away. Let myself rot on the street. Starved. Pitied. Envied everyone who passed me, hated myself even more. And when I died, my last words were for her."
He closed his eyes.
'I envy you… and I hate myself for what I did to you, Mother.'
He exhaled, a trembling breath.
"Then Lucifer found me. And I became Clause — the Sin of Envy."
The white crows drifted toward him, glowing softly in the moonlight, as if mourning with him.