Azriel was distraught—
And for good reason.
Who wouldn't be?
He had carried the weight of a title he never asked for.
Hero.
And to keep carrying it meant losing the comfort he had finally begun to taste.
He walked now with a silent yearning—
A desperate hope that his friends were still alive.
The ones who made life feel worth it.
Above him, a distant moon shone brighter than ever.
As if the sky itself pitied the boy too stubborn to break.
But Azriel didn't cry anymore.
He had cried too much.
If he wanted to save anyone…
He had to let go of himself.
He couldn't shed tears for his own pain anymore.
Instead, his grief would become resolve.
His sadness would harden into strength.
He would be the pillar.
Even if no one else stood with him.
With clenched fists, he ran.
Faster than before.
Faster than pain.
Faster than exhaustion.
Emotionally drained.
Physically worn.
But none of that mattered.
He tore through forests like a wild beast—
