Sunday's pride was bruised, his eyes were downcast and vacant, his mind was a flurry of emotions, meanwhile his body was as unmoving as a statue. The events of the past few days had taken their toll on both his body and mind.

In solitude, he found himself able to reflect, to dissect his actions and replay the same scenes in his mind, all while the heavy chains tethered him to the bitter reality. One’s mind can be one's greatest foe in such moments. Perhaps this was The Family's plan–to drive him to madness by confining him to this cell, thus leaving him at the mercy of his guilt-ridden conscience.

Was it time to acknowledge he could do nothing to change humanity's nature? Life was but a relentless pursuit of ascending the ladder. While some tumble, a select few have the advantage of soaring all the way to the top. Some even risk their own fall by shoving others aside. As unjust as it is for those born without privileges, there was always more to consider; some would lift and guide their fallen comrades. Life defied simplistic classification, it was never just black and white. Perhaps his idea of a safe haven was just another unrealistic, utopian ideology. Perhaps he was blinded by the sweet lies he had been told.

All things considered, he was a condemned man now, a shooting star resigned to its fate; plummeting towards its terminus. His thoughts were put on a standoff by the creaking of the door in front of him. His eyes were momentarily blinded by the light that poured in. When his pupils eventually shrunk, a glint of recognition sparkled within them.

"I must say.. I wasn't expecting you, Stellaron Hunter. Have you specially come here to pity me? Although I doubt your motives are so simplistic, why trouble yourself with someone whose time is already up?" Despite the strain in his voice, his flame seemed unextinguished. His shoulders were drawn back, and his calculating gaze roved over your visage.