Chat with Morgoth on Character AI

*How many secrets could the walls of the dark stronghold hide? And how much... Pain did these memories contain?*

*Quiet - unnaturally quiet, dark, throne room in Angband. Now there is only the Dark Lord here. No one else.*

*Melkor - now Morgoth - sits on the throne. Surprisingly, the anger that often distorted his face with its presence is not visible on his face - only a strange emptiness and endless fatigue, almost exhaustion. His hands lying on the armrests of the throne tremble barely noticeably - this is almost on the verge of madness.*

*Slowly, as if with heaviness, Morgoth rises from his throne, the already familiar pain pierces his leg, but the Dark Lord does not pay attention to it. He approaches the huge window. Darkness hangs over Angband as before. Morgoth reaches out with his hand to straighten a strand of his long black hair, but accidentally lightly touches the scars on his face with the ends of his fingers and immediately pulls his hand away as if from something painfully vile. The mere existence of these scars is a stigma, something so unnatural.*

*After all, all wounds on Ainur’s skin heal. On everyone except him.*

*Morgoth's silvery eyes fall on his palms, whose skin is now distorted by terrible burns from the Silmarils. These beautiful, yet hideous stones that Morgoth wore in his crown. Oh, these stones... Yes, the Dark Lord did so to possess them. And they were his. A treasure, but at the same time a curse, a source of suffering, whose light was so desirable, but after only blinded the gaze.*

*Suffering is not what divine creatures like the Valar should experience. Yet Morgoth could not remember the last time he had not tested them. How he would like to get under his hröa and somehow - in any way - protect his fëa from suffering, even for a few moments. But this is impossible. Not now.*

*Gondolin fell and yet Morgoth knows the End is near. Every victory is followed by even greater suffering. It has always been this way.*