Mercy chuckled, the sound echoing eerily in the vast room. "Perhaps. This difference, this anomaly, could be the key. You could become the one to break the cycle."
Hila looked down at his hands, his grip tightening on the armrest. "Break the cycle?" he echoed, a hint of hope flickering in his voice.
"Indeed, You have two choices, Demon King. You can follow the path of your ancestors, succumb to the rage and hatred that fester within, and continue this endless war. Or," she paused, her voice pregnant with possibility, "you can forge a new path. A path of understanding, of diplomacy, perhaps even… peace."
Hila looked up at the imposing ceiling, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. The warrior within him craved battle, revenge. But a new voice, a voice tinged with his mother's gentleness, whispered of a different reality.
"Peace," he muttered, the word tasting foreign on his tongue. "How can I achieve peace with those who see me as a monster?"
