The war of wills was silent. It was a hurricane ravaging the sea of his consciousness, a lightning storm illuminating a chaotic darkness. In the endless struggle between the Flower Goddess and the demigod's will, Orion waited for a rescue that never came.
Ridiculous… so ridiculous… a thought echoed in the storm. No one is coming to save me.
To rely on others is to invite despair…
The only one who can save me… is me. It has to be me.
This was not just a thought; it was a roar from the very depths of his soul. In the agonizing crucible of that wait, Orion finally understood. Hope was not a thing to be placed in the hands of others. When the final moment came, he could rely on no one but himself.
The war of wills is an invisible game of chess. Under the crushing weight of desolation, despair, and helplessness, some minds shatter into paranoia, others curdle into hatred. And some, a rare few, awaken.
