Tribal Lord Igris watched silently, his expression grim but resolute. He knew better than to interfere now. "Endure it," he said softly, his voice almost drowned by the roaring energy. "Endure it, boy. This is what separates the divine from the mortal."
But Max couldn't hear him anymore. The pain was too great. His entire being felt like it was being pulled apart. His consciousness flickered, the edges of his mind fading in and out. For a brief, terrifying moment, he wanted it to stop. He wanted to let go, to fall, to give in to the crushing weight of the divine energy inside him.
But then, deep within the chaos, a single thought emerged—not of family, not of friends, not of the world he once swore to protect. Those bonds had long since turned to ash in his heart.
The faces of his sister, his mother, his comrades—all blurred into meaningless shadows that no longer stirred him. The warmth they once gave him had faded away, leaving only a hollow silence where emotion used to live.