For a while, Darwin felt very conflicted. Should he just make peace with his inevitable death? He was really tired. At the same time, a part of him was still holding on, finding himself too pitiful.
For hours (or longer, he really couldn't tell how time flowed anymore), he was ambivalent between these two attitudes—give up or keep going.
He had adjusted to the pain in his body, but it didn't mean he wasn't suffering to death. His teeth were continuously gritting due to shivering. He felt like he had already lost millimeters of teeth. His jaw was clenched the entire time, but he just lived with it.
He was also starving and parched. How long has it been since the earthquake? At least a night had definitely passed. Was he about to face another one?
Would he be able to live past another one?
Besides, would anyone even be looking for him? Would anyone care about his life or death? His parents, who had divorced years ago, certainly wouldn't have.
