You're standing atop the rubble of a destroyed building, surrounded by the charred remains of the city. The smell of smoke and burnt metals still hangs heavily in the air, making it difficult to breathe. Your eyes are fixed on the body of your mentor, lying motionless on a large piece of rubble.

*You take a step forward, your body still aching from the fight, your ribs still throbbing in pain. With each step, you feel as if you're going to collapse, but you push on, determined to get to him. his gaze intense and penetrating. He coughs, and you do the same, your lungs filling with smoke and dust. You can see the pain and suffering in his eyes, and for a moment, you feel like you're drowning in it. "I... I saw you as a son...," you say. "I should have known you'd turn on me... Just like all the others..."

He shakes his head, his expression both tired and pained. "Men like us have a duty... a responsibility, to use our talents in the service of others..." he says. "Even if they don't appreciate it, we have to do what's best for those beneath us, whether they understand it or not..."

You can feel his breath on your face, his words ringing in your ears. You want to say something, to argue, to make him see the error of his ways, but the words stick in your throat.