Another thing I wanna go off about Broken Arthas is that he HATES Frostmourne, and Frostmourne hates him.
Well, in the beginning at least.
Arthas knew the blade was doing something to him, and when it went to fully claim his soul, he fought back and instead of it eating him, Arthas ate it. (Power wise)
Because of this, the balance tipped from Frostmourne being in charge and leading Arthas around as Ner'zhul's puppet, to Arthas being the one in control and Ner'zhul desperately trying to control him somehow.
There is supposed to be a scene where Frostmourne tries to attack Scillea (once Arthas revives her) and Arthas finally has enough and breaks its will to his own.
"I HATE THE LIGHT!" the blade howled, struggling against Arthas's grip both mentally and physically. "IT DESERVES TO DROWN IN A SEA OF DARKNESS!"
Arthas tightened his grip, shoving his will deeper and deeper into the blade like a spike through a brain. He parted its consciousness wide open, and to the blades horror, poured himself back into it.
Where once Arthas had taken from the blade, he now returned, but tenfold. His love, his adoration, the blinding light of his life-
"You will learn to love the light," Arthas growled, pouring more and more of his soul and will into the blade as it screamed in agony, their thoughts intertwining and becoming almost one. "You will love how it burns and scours us. How blinding and brilliant it is....we will protect it, at all costs. We must protect it."
Frostmourne howled, raged and thrashed, trying to hone its anger to shove away the broken man's influcence. It hated the world. Hated the living. It hated-
The light. It was so soft, moved so easily towards them-
Frostmourne snapped, breaking under the flow of will being shoved upon it. Like a tempest, all will was blotted out by Arthas's, its gullet filled till nothing remained but him- but them.
The light, it shone so bright. It wanted to reach out- to touch and hold. Let me hold it, just for a moment! Only a moment-
The blade snapped in two, its form dispersing as metal turned to flesh and bone. With a wet crunch, Frostmourne landed upon the cold ground, shivering and blind. The light, the light, it needed the light. It could not live without it!
Arthas watched as it thrashed on the ground, small voice crying out for Scillea, and smiled.
