Jonathan's mouth opened. Closed it and no sound dared to came out. His chest heaved in short, terrified gasps.
Tears — actual tears — pricked at the corners of his eyes.
Phei smiled. It didn't reach his eyes.
"Do you know what hope is, Jonathan?"
Phei didn't wait for an answer.
And Jonathan knew, with soul-crushing certainty, that he was already dead.
"It's the most powerful thing a man can have. Almost comparable to fate itself — a cosmic cheatcode. It makes you fight through the toughest challenges. Makes you endure the impossible. Makes you get back up when everything in your body is screaming at you to stay down."
Another step. The air between them growing thicker, colder.
"It whispers that there's always a way out. Some infinite space of possibility where things could go differently. Where the ending isn't written yet. Where you — specifically you — might be the one who escapes what everyone else couldn't."
