God doesn’t ask if we accept this life. There is no choice. Life is forced upon you. The only choice is how you live it. Or not. That’s a choice as well.
Our lives were never ours. There was no real life because we didn’t have any choice. Our lives belong to Snow and our deaths do, too. But if you kill him, Katniss, if you end all of this, all those deaths, they mean something.
I’d rather risk my life out there than spending the rest of it in here. We don’t belong here. This place isn’t our home. We were put here. We were trapped here. At least, out there we have a choice.
What chance do we have? The question is ‘What choice?’ Run? Hide? Plead for mercy? Scatter your forces? You give way to an enemy this evil with this much power and you condemn the galaxy to an eternity of submission.