"Athena," I whispered, our eyes locked in an intense gaze. Her eyes held a hidden and ancient wisdom, accompanied by a faint but unmistakable trace of judgment.
"Are you supposed to be my reincarnation? You reek of weakness," she began, her words cutting deep, and I felt an immediate surge of annoyance.
"Weakness? You don't have an iota of—"
"I only speak facts. You haven't even overcome your childhood fear of your father's pincer and the things he did to you," she said, her tone cold and icy, and I couldn't help but clench my fists in anger.
"You're cruel. You should have remained in the afterlife rather than choosing to be reincarnated. How unfortunate it is for you that your reincarnation is a weakling," I spat back to mock her, but her stoic expression remained unchanged.
"Is this an illusion?" I asked, scanning the dark forest around us.