Silva's face was pale. Even though Ned had just managed to create a brief respite for her, her physical strength had been greatly depleted. The situation was so desperate, she could hardly see a glimmer of hope to turn the tide.
[But 'I' can't... Even though I have the same knowledge, experiences, and insights, even though it's still 'me', the one standing here is the most mediocre one...]
Motan's hands were weakly clenched, his face ashen.
Humans, at certain times, unexpectedly find themselves filled with self-loathing. Whether they are geniuses, great men, villains, madmen, or just ordinary people, they all have such moments.
Regrets and annoyance, queries and introspection, are exclusive rights of intelligent creatures.
Loathing the self who betrayed friends.
Loathing the self who was cold and heartless.
Loathing the self who failed to show filial piety.
Loathing the self who went to any lengths for personal gains.
Loathing the self who lacked courage.
