"Collapse"
"The way he loves me is exactly the same as how he loves a beggar on the roadside, a dying prisoner of war, or a dead leaf falling from a branch."
When he was sixteen years old, Kasa had not sat on the throne for three days before he slit the throat of an assassin with his own hands in his father's study. Late at night with blood on his hands, Samuel pushed open the door and walked in - white clothes, white hair, amber eyes, stepping on the blood-stained carpet with his bare feet, squatting down in front of him, and wiping the blood off his fingers one by one.
"I'm here to find you," Samuel said.
It was the first time in Kasa's life that he had been seen.
Samuel is the Son of God. He healed plague patients, hugged mothers who lost their children, and sat in the snow all night just to accompany a dying man on his final journey. He loves the world, unconditionally, without reservation, and equally to everyone who needs him. His compassion has no end, and his connivance has no bottom line - he watches when Kasa kills; he does not stop Kasa from committing violence; Kasa turns himself into a tyrant that is reviled by everyone, but his eyes are still as gentle as looking at a fallen child.
But that's not what Casa wants. What he wants is not the sea, but a river that only flows to him. Even if the river is as hot as lava, even if it swallows him up.
He hated Samuel for loving him and all living beings. Hate that indiscriminate indulgence, so that the perpetrators will never be punished, and those who long for exclusive love will never get the only one. This hatred is like a spider web entangling a bird, like a black hole capturing a star - the more it struggles, the deeper it sinks, until everything begins to collapse.
Intention: Indulgence will lead to collapse