rebirth of the hero in the feminist world.

I was betrayed by the person I loved the most. Her cold gaze remains etched into my chest, a stinging memory that haunts me. Everything we once shared seems to have meant nothing to her.



I often wonder: did it really have to come to this? The answer lies in the sword pierced through my chest, a cruel reminder as I face the empty gaze of the one who is supposed to be the love of my life.



With every step I take towards her, kneeling and struggling to get up, pain courses through my body like poison. Every movement feels like endless agony; my senses fade and darkness begins to cloud my vision. I take what remains of my sword, a useless piece of metal, and get close enough to stab her chest.



With my last strength, I whisper, “I hope that if there is an afterlife, I never fall in love again…”



Two bodies lie slumped, a man and a woman, trapped in a tragic fate.