The wind howled softly around him, the only sound besides his breathing.
"I don't know how to do this," he admitted, almost to himself.
"I don't know how to fix this. I owe the dungeon, somehow, but I don't even know where to start. I'm not a martial artist. I'm not a hero. I'm just some guy who got lucky killing a bear. I don't have skills, Zera. I don't have anything. And I'm so, so tired of pretending that everything's okay. It's not."
His fists clenched tighter, his knuckles white.
"If I had a gun right now, I'd feel a thousand times safer. At least that makes sense. A gun is simple. Point and shoot. But this?" He gestured vaguely around him.
"This… this is madness. I just want to be free."
For a long moment, the only sound was the wind.
Then, Zera's voice cut through the silence, calm but firm.
[Seth.]
He didn't respond.
[Seth, look at me.]
