Not Worth Dying For の小説・ストーリー

"To kidnapped is not a fun sight Diego, especially at that age. Please just let me try..." "And kill yourself? you want to kill yourself?!!" "I worth it", I said. "And you feel like you don't have a worth , your life doesn't have a worth?". I shrugged sadly, "I don't anything to live for honestly so why not ", I said in a sad whisper.

"People died tonight because of me. Derek is dead. Viper is dead. How many of your men did not make it home?" "Three." His voice was granite. "Three good men died tonight. And I would sacrifice three hundred more if it meant keeping you safe." "That is the problem, Colt. I am not worth three hundred lives. I am not worth three." "Let me decide what you are worth." "No." I was crying openly now. "I need to figure out what I am worth. On my own. Without you telling me. Without anyone telling me." The silence stretched so long I thought he had hung up.

"We're all dying together. Prisoners and prison. Monster and cage. All of us fading into nothing. All of us becoming void." "Good," James said. His voice was hollow. Empty. The boy who'd sacrificed himself was almost gone now. Just echoes remained. Just fragments of consciousness that used to be child. "If we die holding you—if we fade together—then at least you can't hurt anyone. At least our death means something." "Does it?" the entity asked. Genuinely curious. "Does dying mean something? Does sacrifice matter when no one remembers? When even you forget why you're here? When—"

"So what do you want to do? Want to die to make it even? Want to throw away their sacrifice to make yourself feel better?" "Maybe." "That's selfish. They died so we could live. So we could raise Mira. So we could change things. Dying now makes their sacrifice meaningless." "Living makes their death permanent." "Their death is already permanent. Nothing changes that. The only question is whether we honor it or waste it." "How do we honor killing two people?" "By living. By making their sacrifice worth it. By changing the world so no one else has to die from broken bonds." "That's a nice speech. Doesn't make me feel less guilty."

Even if it was a trap. Because dying while trying to heal was better than dying while giving up. And maybe, just maybe, I had finally found something worth fighting for. Myself.

It’s not about money or anything else; it’s about treasuring what’s important. That’s a love worth fighting for.

Something worth fighting for. TO BE CONTINUED...

Once again, I'm doing exactly what the Order trained me never to do. “I’m not eager,” I snap, “it’s our code. And right now, a clean grave sounds infinitely better than being dependent on drinking your blood.” He studies me for a long moment. “A beautiful sentiment. But martyring yourself to a code requires an audience. So, what exactly does dying for your code accomplish? You're nowhere near home. No one is coming to write your epitaph.” I let out a humorless laugh. “And who’s responsible for that? For dragging me here?”

Life always teaches us different lessons, as I have experienced in the world of survival. The Death Ground. I learned that money can almost buy everything; by the word “almost,” I mean money can’t buy genuine happiness, love, loyalty, peace, and freedom. You can be the wealthiest man in the world, but without those five words, your life is meaningless. You will never be satisfied. Never. After killing all of them, I left a message on the table for Av2 and Av3. Even if I don’t like their guts, I still care for them because they are just like me, trapped in this hellish life.

Luke grabbed my hand and said, "Anna, you know I love you! Mandy and I were just in a moment of confusion. If it weren't for her mother, I'd never have married her." I pulled my hand back, looked at him calmly, and said nothing. Luke cried out, "It was an act of compassion! Could you really bear to let a single mother die with regrets? You wealthy people are so cold-blooded. You don't understand the pain of ordinary people!"