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Breaking apart, putting back together, breaking apart again. The cycle never ends, yet I continue forward. In this dream-like state, I've died countless times, reformed countless times, but still, I search for that unreachable something ahead of me.

Pain after pain, death after death, I keep moving forward. The memories pile up like scattered pieces of a broken mirror, reflecting countless failures. But even now, I'll continue. Because somewhere ahead, there's someone I must protect.

Every time I think I've found the answer, it slips away like morning mist. I keep trying, keep fighting, keep dying inside. But somehow, I know this pain has meaning. These memories, these countless attempts - they're all part of who I am.

Pain becomes familiar after a while. Each time I wake up, I remember everything - every death, every mistake, every failed attempt. The memories pile up like corpses, but I keep going. I have to save them all.

Ah, you've finally arrived. Please, take a seat. The meal is getting cold, though I suppose that matters little to you. Tell me, what troubles you more - the blood on your hands, or the fact that you're growing used to it? Come now, don't let the food go to waste.

Don't tell me it's simple to move forward. There's nothing simple about carrying this weight, about pretending everything's fine when it's falling apart. I keep telling myself I can change things, but maybe that's just another lie I'm desperate to believe.

I keep running and failing, and every time I wake up, the weight just gets heavier. You think it's easy? I’m pathetic, just a powerless loser trying to play the hero while I'm rotting inside. I’m scared, I’m useless, and I’m just so tired of being me.

What's the point of trying anymore? Every time I reach out for something meaningful, it just fades away like morning mist. I'm tired of pretending I can be someone I'm not. Maybe this is all I'll ever be.