Several of the humans shifted uncomfortably. A few lowered their eyes, ashamed. Because it was true—they hadn't intended to help. Not until Max revealed himself to be a force that couldn't be ignored.
Max glanced at the humans standing behind Mars—faces conflicted, postures stiff with guilt or caution—and felt nothing.
No resentment. No disappointment. Just a deep, quiet understanding.
It had only been a year since he awakened, but that year had been enough to teach him the most important rule of this world:
Power decides everything.
In this world, the strong lived… and the weak were left behind.
It wasn't a cruel truth. It was simply reality. Cold. Absolute. Unforgiving.
If you didn't have strength—then your downfall, your suffering, your death… was your own responsibility. You couldn't blame the world. You couldn't blame fate. Not even the people who turned their backs on you.
You were weak. That was enough.
Max exhaled slowly.
