Wrath of an exil by Monty jay

I don’t think it’s just me who feels this way, but I find myself sympathizing with Jude far more than with Phi. There’s something about his character that feels profoundly pure-hearted, almost painfully so, in a way that makes his suffering linger longer in my mind.

Jude’s loneliness isn’t something he chose—it’s something that was forced upon him by circumstances far beyond his control. From the very beginning, he’s been burdened by the consequences of his father’s actions, judged and condemned for a legacy he never asked to inherit. People project their anger and resentment onto him as if he were responsible, stripping him of the chance to simply exist as himself. That kind of injustice creates a very specific kind of isolation—one where you’re surrounded by others, yet completely unseen for who you truly are.

What makes his situation even more heartbreaking is the environment he grew up in. He didn’t just suffer socially; he endured real, personal harm within his own home. Living with abuse, addiction, and instability leaves deep emotional scars, especially when it comes from someone who was supposed to provide safety and care. Jude wasn’t given the foundation most people rely on—love, security, or even basic emotional validation. And despite all that, he doesn’t seem to lose his fundamental kindness. If anything, it makes his quiet resilience even more striking.

Perhaps the most devastating aspect of his story is how little he truly asked for. He didn’t long for revenge or recognition—he simply wanted an apology. A sincere acknowledgment from his father, even if it came too late. The fact that he held onto that hope, waiting for something so small yet so meaningful, and never received it… that’s what makes his pain feel so raw and unresolved. It’s not just about what he went through, but about what he never got—the closure, the validation, the simple human decency he deserved.

Phi, on the other hand, is undeniably a tragic character as well. What she experienced is deeply disturbing and unfair, and it’s impossible not to feel compassion for her. Her trauma is real, and the emotional damage it caused is significant. Anyone in her position would struggle to trust others or feel safe in the world again.

However, what complicates my feelings toward her is the way she responds to that pain. At some point, her isolation begins to feel less like something imposed on her and more like something she actively maintains. It becomes a defense mechanism—a way to protect herself from being hurt again—but it also creates distance between her and the people who genuinely care about her. There’s a subtle but important difference between being alone because the world rejects you, and choosing to push the world away.

This doesn’t make her suffering any less valid, but it does make it more layered. Her loneliness is intertwined not only with what was done to her, but with the walls she builds afterward. In a way, she has agency in her isolation, even if that agency is shaped by trauma. That complexity can make it harder to connect with her emotionally in the same instinctive way.

Jude’s pain feels more straightforward, more undeserved in a way that hits immediately. He is someone who, despite everything, still seems open to connection, still quietly hoping for kindness, still carrying a sense of emotional sincerity that was never fully nurtured. His loneliness feels like a wound inflicted on him by others.

Phi’s, by contrast, feels like both a wound and a shield.

And maybe that’s why Jude’s story feels more tragic to me—it’s the tragedy of someone who never had a real chance, yet never stopped yearning for something simple and human.
If any of you read it, what do you think?