As Chiron lay on the ground, his blood staining the earth beneath him, his laughter rang out, sharp and hollow.
And then Tears began to streak down his battered face, mingling with the dirt and blood, unnoticed at first.
The laughter, so arrogant and defiant, slowly crumbled under the weight of something deeper, something rawer. The sound caught in his throat, his chuckles breaking into uneven sobs, and then finally into low, guttural wails.
These tears were not merely for the agony wracking his body. No, Chiron had endured pain before—pain far worse than this.
He had lost limbs, endured unspeakable torment, faced death time and time again. His resilience was a fortress, unyielding and unshakable. But this... this was different.
