He woke up to this nightmare: locked away, accused flat-out of crimes he didn't commit. Then comes the final blow – banishment to some godforsaken frontier spot in just three days! Seriously? The system that was supposed to help him... it felt like a betrayal worse than any street crime back then.
Suddenly thrown into a ruthless world where power dictates everything, survival became his only goal. At first, honestly, he wasn't even sure what *that* meant practically. He just wanted basic peace – some money, maybe finding a quiet spot to live out the rest of his life without drama. His whole plan was to steer clear, avoid these dangerous currents like ambition and outright betrayal.
But fate had its own agenda. It wouldn’t let him fade quietly into obscurity like that.
Years later, he ends up as this lone figure atop a windswept ruin. Looking out over... well, nothing much anymore. The people who were his allies or his enemies? They're all gone now. Their successes and failures feel distant, lost in the passage of time. You see how fast things change sometimes?
What does it all really mean then? All those ups and downs – victory felt so temporary against defeat just around the corner? Like fleeting shadows dancing beneath an unchanging sky...