*THUD! THUD! THUD!*
Nero's legs moved like pistons across the battlefield, each step burning through the last dregs of his mana reserves.
His body screamed in protest as he pushed beyond the exhaustion and pain.
Every time his depleted mana pool managed to regenerate even a single point, he immediately burned it to add to his speed.
For strength.
… For the desperate hope that he wouldn't be too late.
'Will you lose another one?'
No. He couldn't. He couldn't bear to lose another one, more than he wanted to admit.
'Is it the same thing again?'
"..."
A faint image flickered through his consciousness like a haunting nightmare he wanted to forget.
… A younger version of himself, maybe 8 years old, standing alone in front of a fresh grave.
Tears streamed down his face as he clutched a single white flower.
The departing figures of relatives who'd promised to stay, to care for him, to never leave him alone.
All walking away without looking back.
Just like everyone else had.
