“So instead I should just listen to you and give up. Just… die,” said Asha with a snort. Diara sighed. “This version of you would end, Ashalia—but this version of you isn’t you. All beings are made up of a series of choices; if those choices are not our own, then who are we? Why fight to keep a version of yourself that is nothing more than a character in a play, reciting lines written by someone else?”
