You see enough darkness. And one day you stop seeing the line between justice and cruelty.
I've seen enough shit in my life.
I've been through too much. I thought I had suffered enough.
Sure, I made it out of some of it. And the thought of taking revenge on the ones who caused it… it still lingers.
I do want to tear them apart, limb from limb. But I haven't.
Because I know... if I do that, then I won't be any different from them.
That's how my mind works. That's how I work.
Killing someone was never something I was born with.
They were the ones who taught me that.
I never liked it to begin with.
I didn't feel satisfied killing Glory that day, and I never will.
What's the point? What was the motive? Would anything change after it?
Nothing.
They stayed the same. You kill one Glory, and they'll raise another to take his place.
Things don't change just by ending them. Cutting ties with it all doesn't fix the scars.
What changes... is the regret of not stopping them sooner.
