His life continued, and even with his age advancing, his figure didn't change by much. Filth plastered all over his body, and clothes in such poor state that they didn't even hold in place—Only held together by bits of adhesive tape he had found—Yet the child's face portrayed eyes of rare purity.
"What did they do deserve this path?" the same question resounded in his head before the image disappeared.
Sadness and sorrow had taken hold of his soul, and the fight with Golden had completely disappeared from his trains of thought. Time's divine hourglass stopped moving, and with Fell's hold on reality vanished through a smokescreen.
"They told me it was destiny…", his own voice resounded in his head. "The nobles are kings, while we are just the defects of this world."
