"You failed us," whispered one voice, cold as winter's breath.
"Your pride cost us everything," hissed another, thick with bitterness.
"You were too arrogant to listen," said a third, dripping with contempt.
They circled him, their accusations merging into an overwhelming curse that pressed inward from every side, attempting to crush Orion beneath the weight of guilt and failure.
The pressure was almost physical, urging him to lower his head, to accept judgment and admit defeat. For a fleeting moment, he felt the tempting whisper of surrender, the urge to agree, to acknowledge the truth in their claims.
But then, deep within his chest, Orion felt the stirring of something stronger. His gaze hardened, his stance firming with unwavering resolve. He would not bow, not here, not now, not to these echoes of doubt and despair.
