Art groaned, rolling his shoulders back and letting his head lean toward the sky. The soft golden hue of dawn was just beginning to bleed into the edge of the forest.
He exhaled through his nose, muttering, "You know what… we can't even blame them entirely."
Zyon raised a brow, arms crossed, his eyes not leaving the quiet crowd of traumatized students.
Art continued, "That crash out was real. Genuine. We couldn't have predicted what happened, not even close. That monster… whatever the hell it was… came out of nowhere. It's normal—human—to break like that."
Zyon scoffed. "Maybe. But when you act like a coward, you lose the right to act like a judge. They're all so ready to point fingers at Freya, but not one of them had the spine to take charge themselves."
Art glanced sideways at him, his eyes a touch colder than before. "You think I don't know that? But you're missing the point. Freya didn't have to take charge either. No one forced her."
Zyon narrowed his gaze slightly.
