Point of View: ???
"Don't deny it…
It's the truth."
The cold wind swept through the forest.
Snow slowly fell around the crater, covering the land destroyed by the earlier battle. The air was freezing, heavy.
Tharok was breathing with difficulty.
His body was still ruined from the backlash of Overload. Every breath caused him pain.
But that was nothing compared to what he was seeing.
Another screen appeared before him.
The bluish light partially illuminated the darkness of the night.
In the image… Marek appeared.
He was inside a small stone kitchen.
Steam rose from a clay bowl as he slowly stirred a soup.
His expression was calm.
Familiar.
Warm.
—"The soup is ready…"
Then he pulled a small vial from his clothes.
A smile appeared on his face.
—"Now all that's missing is the special medicine…"
—"Hahaha…"
He poured the powder into the bowl and stirred it again.
Tharok trembled.
I silently observed his reaction.
Marek picked up the container and slowly walked toward the chief's house.
He knocked on the door.
—"Chief, I brought your meal for today… may I come in?"
From inside came a tired, weak voice.
—"Come in…"
Marek entered.
The chief was lying on a bed covered with thick furs.
He tried to sit up to receive him… but suddenly began coughing violently.
Marek quickly approached and handed him water.
—"Thank you, Marek…
—I don't know what I'd do without you during times like this…"
Marek smiled kindly.
—"Don't worry, Chief.
—I'm like Tharok's brother…
—And in my heart, you're like a grandfather to me."
The old man let out a small laugh.
—"Hahaha…
—You're a good boy."
Marek slowly fed him.
Like a grandson caring for his family.
Like someone worthy of trust.
I turned my gaze toward Tharok.
His breathing was unstable.
His hands trembled against the snow.
Then I asked:
—"Tell me, Tharok…
—Do you remember where you were while your grandfather was being poisoned?"
His pupils contracted.
—"St… stop…"
His voice came out broken.
—"I don't want to keep watching this…"
The wind blew harder.
Snowflakes clung to his hair and bloodstained clothes.
I replied with feigned guilt.
—"I'm sorry…
—But I'm curious."
Another screen appeared.
This time it showed two figures walking together along a snowy path.
Tharok.
And Rogan.
The Tharok in the image smiled while carrying an enormous backpack filled with supplies.
Rogan looked at him and spoke with a proud smile.
—"Thank you for helping me with my work, son."
—"It's no problem, Father.
—I like helping others, just like Grandpa."
His smile widened.
—"Besides… maybe I'll find some useful medicine during the trip."
Rogan glanced at him sideways.
—"You're still thinking about that?"
Tharok lowered his head slightly.
—"Grandpa is still sick…
—But Marek is taking care of him.
—He's good at those things."
Rogan remained silent for a few seconds.
Then he slowly replied:
—"Yes…
—Marek is quite good at his job."
Tharok clenched his teeth.
His body began trembling harder.
—"That's enough!"
His shout shattered the silence of the forest.
—"That's enough…!
—It's enough!"
The images disappeared.
The snow continued falling quietly.
I watched him for a few seconds before smiling.
—"What are you talking about…?"
Tharok lowered his head.
After a few seconds, he answered.
—"I know what you're trying to show me…"
—"Oh?"
His voice was weak.
Unstable.
—"You're trying to say that…
—If I hadn't helped other tribes…"
His breathing faltered.
—"If I had stayed with my mother and grandfather…
—They would still be alive…"
Silence filled the area.
Then I answered coldly:
—"And isn't that true?"
He quickly raised his head.
—"No!
—It wasn't a waste of time…"
His voice weakened at the end.
—"I just…"
I waved my hand dismissively.
—"It's always the same with you."
I took a step toward him.
The snow crunched beneath my feet.
—"Always helping others.
—Always sacrificing yourself.
—Always putting your own desires last."
I stared directly at him.
—"And what did you gain from it?"
Tharok did not answer.
Because he had no answer.
—"Look at how you ended up because you helped Sara."
His body tensed.
—"Wasn't that exactly why you ended up like this?"
His silence was enough of an answer.
I smiled faintly.
—"You spent your entire life trying to become someone worthy of admiration.
—Someone your mother and grandfather could be proud of."
I slowly leaned down in front of him.
—"But when you finally tried to kill your father…"
His pupils trembled.
—"Didn't it feel good?"
The icy wind swept through the forest.
Tharok remained motionless.
He didn't answer.
But I could see it in his eyes.
The guilt.
The fury.
And something else.
Something that was slowly beginning to grow inside him.