Dyon soul began to grow. First it was a baby of no more than a few months old, but then its position began to change…
It soon became a toddler of about two years old, turning itself to sit upright in a position of meditation.
As Dyon's soul shifted its position, one of the seemingly impossible to break crystalline chains shattered without resistance, sending Dyon's chest into yet another violent pulse.
For the first time in more than a week, Dyon's mind cleared.
He didn't receive some magical answer, nor did he find some nonsensical boost in morale to push him past his thoughts. If he had to be realistic, he still felt that Chaos was inevitable, that there was no beauty to be found in it and that a tragic ending was all that lay in wait for them all.
The reason he had pulled out wasn't because he thought things would get better, but because of one thing and one thing only: Responsibility.
