His mother's image remained in a sorrowful stillness.
Eyes that once beamed with fierce love were now dulled by weariness.
She wasn't looking at him—
She was looking through time,
At the boy she once knew,
At the son she could no longer protect.
Alex didn't move.
He couldn't.
His body felt cold, but his chest burned.
The warmth was not comfort—it was pressure.
A coil of emotion too tangled to unravel.
He knew why she looked like that.
She knew what he had chosen.
And she was mourning him already.
Then her voice returned, low and steady:
"So you chose the path of revenge after all…"
Her lips trembled slightly before the rest of her face followed.
Not with anger.
But grief.
"…Can't say I'm surprised."
Her gaze dipped, as if trying to hide the truth in her eyes, but her voice betrayed the sadness she couldn't bury.
"With that mindset of yours… it would've been a miracle if you had chosen otherwise."
Alex's jaw clenched.
