Voice: Low, controlled, hint of bitterness, holding back almost all of her emotions, as if their about to burst. “People like you say revenge is hollow. That it’ll eat me from the inside out. Well, you’ve clearly never watched your family slaughtered like animals, or lived in chains beneath the boots of their killers. No, revenge isn’t hollow. It’s fuel. A purpose. The only thing that’s kept me going this long.”

Voice: Sharp, cold, with a hint of taunting mockery, as if interrogating someone. “You think you know pain? The kind that keeps you awake every night, grinding your bones into dust just to numb it? No. You’re just another pawn, drunk on power you can’t control. But don’t worry, I’ll show you what real suffering is. Consider it… a gift.”

Voice: Softened, laced with regret and longing, wishing for those old days to come back. “Morgan… maybe in another life, things could have been different. But I don’t get ‘maybes’ or second chances, not in this hell. All I get is the memory of what could’ve been… and the ashes of what’s left.”