[ EU ] Another cycle is coming to an end in the Dark Souls universe , but in this cycle guns have been invented .

A saxophone croons a sad tune off in the distance, occasionally, a piano will join in. I know it's just in my imagination, as I sit with my back against the concrete wall. But I like it, so I make no attempts to stop the hallucination. It lets me pretend that I'm somewhere else, not this prison, surrounded by gray slabs of concrete and rain that never seems to stop. Maybe that's why I like the music, it let's me pretend that I'm somewhere else, that I'm walking down a lonely boulevard, neon signs illuminate my way and the rain steadily drizzles on me as I pull my hat lower and coat tighter. 
 
 But I know it's not real. 
 
 What is real though, is the body that somebody pushed through a hole in the ceiling above me. It lands with a crunch, if he had n't already been dead he certainly would be now. I'd tried to reach the opening in the cell before, but it was too high for me to reach. Now, there's a man looking down at me. He does n't say anything, just stares at me, then leaves. 
 
 I'm not sure if it's real or not, I'm not completely sure just how long I've been in this cell, so I'm not exactly quick to trust anything that happens. After all, the jazz music is still playing somewhere. 
 
 But curiosity eventually gets the better of me and I scramble over to investigate. The man has indeed been dead for quite some time, his face is mottled and looks like it could slough off at any time. His clothes are actually in decent shape, for how long the man must have been dead. A little more investigation turns up a key and snub-nosed revolver, the jazz in the background plays a little louder as I pull my jacket tighter and hat low over my face. 
 
 The key slides into the lock and opens the door with a rusty screech. Outside in the hallway it is completely empty, not another soul around. At the first cell next to my own there's a man beating at the wall, at least, I think it's a man. His body looks similar to the man who was pushed through my ceiling, body mottled and as though it could fall off at any second. The next cell is empty, however, I can hear sobs from further down the hall. Crouched next to the wall is another ghoul, his head in his hands as his wails pierce the air. 
 
 For a moment, I contemplate grabbing one of the bricks that has fallen from the disintegrating wall and putting the poor soul out of his misery. But that thing does n't even look up at as I move closer. For a moment, I feel a little pity as the brick connects with his skull. The blood drips from the brick and my face as I continue to murder him. I know that's what I'm doing. No beating around the bush with it. When his head is little more than paste, I feel a little better, some of my humanity restored as I stole the rest of his. 
 
 Outside of the walls I can feel the footsteps of something massive. I mop some of the blood off my face with the back of my hand. For a moment, I can catch a glimpse of the thing outside. There are massive wings, and it has some sort of hammer. A part of me is terrified, but another part of me is exhilarated. Blood drips from my hands as I continue down the hallway.
