Arya clenched his fists, his voice shaking. "I just wanted to save others… but they treat us like monsters. Every time I fought for them, but in the end, no one stood for me. Only my sister… Only Aisha ever loved me. If she's not here, then why should I be? I just want to die. Leave me alone."
The young man scoffed. "You know why you're weak? Because you're still clinging to the past, just like those humans. Always whining about what's gone instead of looking ahead. You think dying will set you free?" He stepped closer, his voice colder. "Then remember this—when they killed your sister, did they show her mercy? Did they care?"
Arya's breath hitched.
"You say you love your sister? Then look at yourself. What the hell are you saying now?" The young man's eyes burned into him. "Love? That's a fucking joke. Until you abandon it, until you let go of everything holding you back—you'll never move forward."
