The last message.

Everything inside breaks off from one message. It seems that everything is under control, as if you are the one making your own destiny. But in reality, you have long since become just a tool in someone else's hands. Fingers squeeze the weapon - not from fear, but... from exhaustion. From that same oppressive, sticky fatigue that suffocates and does not allow you to breathe. The screen is on ... Just a couple of phrases. I read them over and over again. As if I expect them to disappear. That this is some kind of mistake, not about me, not now. But no. This is the finale. Or the beginning of the finale. One decision. Two things in the palms of my hands. One question. Tell you to your face about my choice? Or just send a message - "The choice is made."

Chain

EVM

Network

Avalanche

Contract

0xc9c104b4233798ce5d7841294f96caa881622c60

Token ID

2