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But the world was not ideal. She felt the hunger gnawing at her own insides, the weakness that made her limbs feel heavy, her mind slow. Mortals could not afford fairness. They lived by necessity, not ideals.

A bitter thought struck her "Even if I give, this man will hunger again tomorrow."

It was never-ending. Her mind warred against itself, but her body moved first.

She tore the bread in half and placed a piece in his trembling hands.

Not everything had to be absolute. Not every choice had to be one or the other.

The man blinked at the bread in shock before shoving it into his mouth, devouring it like a starving beast.

Xerosis watched him, the hunger still twisting inside her, the unfairness of it all pressing down on her chest.

But she had made her choice and for now—that was enough.

Behind her, the Despairing Virtuoso smiled. The painting began to shift once more.