Apollo's eyes slowly opened. He looked at Rhys and Rhea, who were attempting to kill him with their glares alone.
He laughed with an uncanny undertone.
"There was something I've learned..."
There was a time where Apollo didn't have confidence in anything he did. It was a time where he refused to try anything new. A time where he never put any effort into anything, not even himself.
Apollo decided his time was better spent pestering the people around him. He couldn't even remember for how long he lived like that, in pointlessness.
Apollo's eyes widened.
"Through all the misery..."
But then... he was assassinated.
When Apollo made the decision to pick up his bokken, he made it with conviction. For the first time in years, he felt determined to do something. It wasn't because someone told him to, or because he enjoyed it.
Apollo's pupils shook.
"That I didn't need to listen to anyone else..."
