The tender cry Northern heard from within the Complex—what began as a soft whimper but soon swelled—only added weight to the sadness pressing on his chest.
Right now, all he wanted was to launch himself into the air and vanish into the sky. But Bairan's words echoed relentlessly in his mind.
Paragon Raizel… he was the one man in both this world and the one before who had truly become a mentor to him. Maybe it was because he was older, or maybe it was because he was special in ways few men ever were. Raizel had a kindness that resonated—not just on the surface, but in the depths of Northern's soul.
He was the kind of man Northern wouldn't have minded becoming. A force of nature. A powerhouse who could live with the weight of his choices. A man for whom dozens of rifts had to be torn open, who needed to be trapped, and smothered with Behemoths just to make him bleed—let alone die.
