Point of View: Tharok
"Wait!"
The word escaped my mouth before I could even think.
I didn't even understand why I said it.
It just… happened.
Like a reflex.
Like some part of me desperately refused to let him leave.
The freezing wind swept through the crater, lifting small snowflakes around us. I could feel the cold against my skin, feel my body trembling faintly, but I barely paid attention to it.
My mind was somewhere else.
On those images.
On the words I had heard.
On my mother.
On my grandfather.
Slowly, I lowered my head and stared at the snow piling up over my legs.
Everything hurt.
My body was still shattered from the backlash of Overload.
Every breath burned my chest.
The blood loss weakened me more with every passing minute.
But none of that mattered anymore.
Because something else hurt far more.
I clenched my teeth.
Why…?
Why did things end up like this?
I always tried to do the right thing.
I never hurt others for my own benefit.
I never betrayed anyone.
I never abandoned someone in need.
Then…
Why did I lose everything?
My breathing became heavy.
Uneven.
For the first time in a long while…
I began questioning my entire life.
Was helping others wrong?
Was it a mistake to place everyone else's needs before my own?
I whispered softly,
"If everything I did was good… then why did I end up like this…?"
The silence of the forest was the only answer.
I didn't understand.
I couldn't understand.
I slowly raised my gaze.
Loki still stood with his back facing me, motionless beneath the falling snow.
"You know…"
I spoke in a tired, hollow voice.
"I never expected to survive."
When I activated Overload… I had already accepted my death.
I closed my eyes for a moment.
I remembered the chase.
The fury.
The hatred.
The desperation of trying to reach my father before he escaped.
"My only goal was to wound him… to make sure he paid for what he did."
My fingers slowly sank into the snow.
"I thought that if I could at least do that… then maybe I could die in peace."
Even if only a little.
Even if I still felt guilty.
Even if I still hated myself for failing to protect my mother and grandfather.
At least…
At least I would have fulfilled her final wish.
My breathing trembled.
"I thought that would be my end…"
Slowly, I opened my eyes.
The snow continued falling in silence.
"That's why… when you said you would let me live…"
My voice cracked slightly.
"I didn't understand at first."
But now I did.
Now I understood perfectly.
The worst torture for me wasn't pain.
It wasn't losing my body.
Not even losing my cultivation.
It was living while knowing I had failed.
Living while watching the people who destroyed my life continue moving forward.
Happy.
At peace.
As if nothing had happened.
I clenched my fists tightly.
The pain in my wounds intensified, but I didn't care.
I lifted my head further and stared directly at him.
Now he was facing me as well.
Looking at me.
"What's your name?"
The wind gently moved his hair before he answered,
"I am called many things… but you may call me Loki."
Loki…
I had never heard that name before.
Before I could speak again, he continued,
"Don't try to negotiate with me."
His voice was cold.
Distant.
"I already told you what I want… and I will accept nothing less."
The words I wanted to say died in my throat.
I could see it in his eyes.
He wasn't lying.
He would accept nothing else.
There was only one thing he wanted.
For me to become his herald.
I lowered my gaze again.
Snow continued falling over the ruined crater.
What would my mother say if she saw me now?
What would my grandfather say?
Their teachings surfaced in my mind one after another.
"The strong must protect."
"Do not become what you hate."
"Do what is right, even when it is difficult."
I lowered my head slightly.
My chest hurt.
Because, for the first time…
I didn't know what the right choice was anymore.
I didn't know what I was supposed to do.
I only knew one thing.
I didn't want this future.
I didn't want to become a cripple incapable of protecting anyone.
I didn't want to live while watching my father move on.
I didn't want to live with this guilt for the rest of my life.
Then I heard his voice again.
"You are wasting my time."
I immediately lifted my head.
Loki had already turned away.
He began walking slowly through the snow.
No.
He couldn't leave.
Not like this.
"Wait!"
He stopped once more.
Barely turning his face toward me, he raised two fingers.
"You are fortunate, Tharok."
His voice carried clear annoyance.
"This is the second time I have stopped for you."
The wind blew harder.
"And it will also be the last."
His black eyes stared directly into mine.
"So choose your next words carefully."
I swallowed hard.
My heart pounded violently.
This was my last chance.
I knew it.
I couldn't waste it.
I took a deep breath.
Then slowly raised my eyes toward him.
"If I become your herald…"
My voice trembled slightly.
"What exactly would I gain?"