When a prey's soul is severed first, the fragment devours it. The memories are absorbed and added to its own essence. Yet fragments are incomplete by nature. If the sum of memories is still below what is required for wholeness, the fragment must continue its hunt. But if the total surpasses the threshold, the memories fuse into a complete soul. The fragment ascends, leaving behind a dark stone infused with the leftover pieces of its prey. From that stone, a new fragment stirs — weaker, but bearing the physical and mental echoes of its predecessor.
If instead the fragment's essence is drained first, its mask vanishes and its cloak collapses into a black rock. The prey survives, though left with an incomplete soul leaking through its torn passage.
The hue of the stone reveals its strength. Some glimmer dark violet, heavy with lingering memory, while others sink to pure black, fragile and desperate. The darker the rock, the weaker the fragment within, and the less capable it is of preying on unripe vessels.
How much memory is needed to form a true soul varies. It depends on the size of the soul from which the fragment was born — a measure of what it once was, and what it still seeks to become.