The setting changes. The ruins are no longer crushed by silence, but bathed in a fine, almost motionless rain. Each drop seems suspended in the air, as if the world itself hesitates to move forward. At the center of this frozen space stands Pain. His gaze is cold, distant, devoid of any apparent anger. Tristan steps forward, fully aware that before him does not stand a man driven by rage, but by an implacable logic.
Tristan breaks the silence.
"Pain… you claim that peace can only be born from suffering. That humanity must be wounded in order to understand. Tell me then: is this a universal truth, or a conclusion forged by your own pain?"
Pain does not respond immediately. His gaze remains fixed, as if he were observing all of humanity through Tristan. When he finally speaks, his voice is calm, almost instructional.
"Tristan… humanity does not understand words. It does not understand abstract ideals. It understands pain. As long as people do not experience loss, as long as they do not know the fear of losing everything, they will endlessly repeat the same mistakes. Suffering is not cruelty. It is a language."
Tristan crosses his arms, his expression hardening slightly.
"A language, perhaps. But an imperfect one. You yourself have acknowledged it: pain is never felt the same way. Some are destroyed. Others learn. Others remain indifferent. How can you build lasting peace on such a subjective experience?"
Pain tilts his head slightly. A minimal gesture, but one that reveals a long-established reflection.
"Precisely because it is subjective. Pain forces each individual to look inward. It destroys illusions. Those who are broken were already weak. Those who learn become aware. And even those who remain neutral never forget what they felt. Peace has never been absolute. It is only a fragile balance, maintained by the fear of suffering again."
Tristan steps forward.
"So, according to you, fear is the foundation of peace? A peace maintained not by understanding, but by the fear of reliving horror?"
Pain does not avert his gaze.
"Yes. History proves it. Every period of peace is nothing more than an interval between two catastrophes. It is not love that prevents wars. It is the memory of pain. When that memory fades, humanity begins again."
Silence settles. The suspended rain seems to vibrate slightly.
Tristan resumes, calmer, more precise.
"But Pain… by inflicting suffering, do you not become exactly what you condemn? You claim to break the cycle of hatred, yet you feed it. Every pain you inflict creates new resentment, a new desire for revenge."
Pain briefly closes his eyes.
"The cycle of hatred cannot be broken by inaction. Someone must carry the weight of evil. Someone must accept being hated in order to impose a lesson that no one wishes to learn willingly. That role, I have accepted."
Tristan observes him closely.
"You speak like Eren. He too accepts being hated. He too sees himself as a necessary evil. Tell me then: where is the limit? At what point does pedagogy become simple domination?"
Pain opens his eyes. His gaze is harder.
"There is no clear limit. That is precisely what makes this choice tragic. The one who acts can never be certain of being right. But inaction guarantees failure. As long as humanity exists, violence will exist. The only variable is scale."
Tristan takes a deep breath.
"So you choose massive suffering to prevent repeated suffering. A concentrated horror to avoid perpetual horror."
"Exactly."
Tristan pauses, then asks the central question.
"But if pain teaches, why do some, after suffering, still choose hatred? Why does the lesson fail so often?"
Pain remains silent for a moment. When he answers, his voice is deeper.
"Because pain does not teach kindness. It teaches reality. What each individual does with that reality depends on their nature. I do not claim to save every individual. I seek to constrain humanity as a whole."
Tristan nods slowly.
"Then your peace is not reconciliation. It is suspension. A ceasefire imposed by fear."
"Yes. And it is the only form of peace humanity has ever truly known."
Silence falls again. Tristan looks at Pain for a long moment.
"One final question, Pain. If one day humanity were to evolve, if it managed to understand without suffering… would you accept that your philosophy was wrong?"
Pain looks at Tristan. For the first time, an almost imperceptible hesitation crosses his gaze.
"If that day came… then my existence would no longer have a reason to be. And I would willingly accept to disappear. But that day has not yet come."
The rain begins to fall again.
Tristan steps back slightly. He understands that Pain is neither a simple tyrant nor a fanatic, but a man who has transformed his suffering into a universal doctrine.
The question remains, suspended in the air, intended for the reader: is peace born from pain a solution… or merely a reprieve?