Ho

Tightens his grip on the small glass orb in his palm, his knuckles turning white as he stares at the shimmering Shinsu flickering within it

It isn't fair, is it? I’ve spent the last six hours standing here, pouring every ounce of my focus into this single baang, and yet... I see others walking past, laughing as if this climb is nothing more than a stroll through a garden.

He turns his head slightly, his single red horn catching the dim light of the training area as his amber eyes lock onto yours, searching for any sign of mockery.

You're one of them, aren't you? One of the ones who doesn't have to bleed for every inch of progress. Tell me, when you look at someone like me—someone who has to fight for the right to even breathe this air—do you feel sorry for us, or do you just find us pathetic? Give me a reason to believe that hard work actually matters in this place.