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voraxiia · 2 months

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[ distance ] sender backs away from receiver, desperate to establish distance between them ((OOC: I get the image of Luca is muddy and Ravein is like oh no, don't get me dirty and runs)) 1oo﹕ sender has just died , receiver finds out . ((OOC: Ehehe... I think i've asked for Haru before but not Ravein? I think so anyways?... Well... ehe! I wanna see Luca react))

ㅤ⁺₊ ﹙ㅤaction prompts for leaning , 100 nonverbal prompts // @fightingthetidesㅤ﹚

ㅤㅤㅤif you were wondering where Luca went , dear Ravein , look up . see that figure in the distance , swaying ever so slightly as he’s approaching ? it’s not hard to see said someone had been through a tough fight , and that could very well be an understatement , dark red liquid soaking his uniform and the exposed skin of his hands and face , even dripping onto the ground with each weary step he took .

ㅤㅤㅤhe sees you now , and you notice he’s picking up his pace . the blades in his hands could easily become a hazard should anyone come close , because he’s running now . towards you . at full speed . it's in your instincts to run too , but at this moment , you're no match for him .

ㅤㅤㅤluckily he drops them onto the ground with a clatter when he finally gets to you , so that he can practically throw himself onto you , knocking the wind out of your own wounded body before he clings to you so tightly something else might crack if you weren’t careful .

ㅤㅤㅤ❝ㅤ... i thought they killed you , so i killed everyone too .ㅤ❞ㅤand it was really , really hard work !

#fightingthetides #// lmao this was fun #// i refuse to make it sad #＊╱ luca & ravein #＊╱ luca — in character #＊╱ luca

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peoplcshope · 8 months

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nonverbal prompts / accepting / @eternalbxtterfly

∗ 1oo﹕ sender has just died , receiver finds out . {{Turns into the Grinch.}}

“N-no..not here too..n-not a-again.” There was a hint of hopelessness in his tone as he witnessed Elise’ death before his eyes. What started off as a righteous mission for the city’s independence ended as something like this..and it was ALL his fault because he was too weak. The moment Trunks had set foot within these cosmos he remembered encountering an entity that grew desperate of his prowess and decided to seal his powers..limiting his abilities as long as he ventured within Teyvat.

“No..” Trunks slowly approach Elise’ lifeless body as the Raiden Shogun stood there stoically as if she was simply doing her duty, the rest of the resistance behind him charged forward, it was now or never for them in honor of their own Maiden that they followed. However, it was a losing battle.

Countless more lives were cut down with a mere single swing of the woman’s mighty sword of lightning. All the while Trunks had Elise cradled in his arms trying to wake her up as the tears continued to fall across his cheeks and onto her face. “Elise..why Do I keep long people?” His mind began to race, as more screams were echoed in the area. The other members of the resistance falling. Bodies thud against the pavement all around him that reminded him of times ‘back then’.

“Gohan..mother..Kibito..Ngh the supreme Kai..Mai and now..Elise too?!” The earth began to shake as Trunks felt so much anger boiling within his own body, the seal that kept him weakened began to crack within him as his energy began to spike. “Nggh…grrr…nggghh..” A combination of both sorrow and rage began to overtake Trunks as his entire body began to seeth, teeth gritting as the memories he shared with Elise began to play back in his mind..now acknowledging that he would NEVER see her again and all because he was weak..No..no more.

All of that anger continued to build and then something broke. “NNGHAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!”

Trunks’ scream echoes through the area like thunder as the ground trembles even more, around his body there were flames that burned with rage along with his hair changing from its soft lavender into a deep scarlet before his attention turned towards the woman that took such a sweet and gentle soul away from the world. Trunks was going to do it, he was going to kill this goddess and it wasn’t for any altruistic reason, NO, this was a selfish desire born from his need for vengeance. For what happened to Elise the Raiden Shogun will pay with her very life.

#❛ mail ━━ i've been fighting but i just can't do enough.#eternalbxtterfly

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queenharumiura · 1 year

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∗ 1oo﹕ sender has just died , receiver finds out . // luca , as a treat :)

Taken from meme: [x] ||Accepting|| A ‘treat’ —Did I want this? I’ll get my revenge, wait for it! Verse: Varia

Haru was listening to music as she was reading a book in her leisure time. She’d returned from a difficult mission just last week and she was enjoying a much deserved vacation. It was times like this that she could crack open a book and read in peace when a certain duo was out on a mission together. Ravein, at least, was the more secretive of the two and should be able to hold Luca back from going too far, running head-first into danger. Critical thinking wasn’t exactly his strongest suit.

They’d be fine and cover for each other, she thought. There wasn’t a reason to be worried for them. Reality was going to prove the opposite soon enough as someone walks into the room she was reading in, basking in the warm sunlight. The majority of this place was a bit dreary and dark, so she purposefully sought out a place that had some sunlight for her to take advantage of. Like a cat, enjoying the sun, it was ‘Haru relaxation hours.’

Of course, this held true only if other people didn’t come to bother her. Looking up from her book, she shot an annoyed glance in the direction of the uninvited guest. Not deigning to take her earbuds out of her ears for this person, she opted to read their lips as they broke the news. She motions for them to stop, pulling one of her earbuds out.

“Say that again. I don’t think I read that right.” Surely, she’d misread their lips when they told her that both Ravein and Luca were missing. On an entire team, they were the only two unaccounted for. Supposedly, by sacrificing themselves, they could ensure the rest of the team returned to base with their lives intact. The chances of them still being alive were grim.

“The last team mission in France returned late last night and, Ravein and Luca didn’t return with them. The recovery team is being dispatched to retrieve them.”

Setting her book aside, she was out the door, moving past the informant. “Who do I need to talk to to get on the recovery team?” There was no reason this person came to break the news to her unless they expected her to join the recovery team. The Varia knew that she had a close relationship with both Luca and Ravein. Telling her any of this before the team was finalized was just begging for her to volunteer herself.

If they didn’t want her to join, it would’ve been best to inform her after the fact, but that also meant she’d hunt down whoever withheld the information from her and pummel them to vent her frustrations. It was something she’d never forgive them for, and they had signed the lease of always getting punched at the bare minimum any time they showed their face around her.

Whichever the case, she was walking down the winding hallways as the informant kept telling her more information. “The mission was successful. Someone accidentally triggered an alarm, alerting them of their presence. From all accounts, Ravein followed after Luca who volunteered to do something about it. What kind of intelligence officer throws themselves into danger like that?”

Obviously, Ravein was that sort of intelligence officer who runs straight into danger because Luca impulsively threw himself into the throes of it (again). He wasn’t much of a talker, to the point of being a mute. What probably happened was that Luca ran off first before Ravein could prevent him from running off, so he probably opted to follow behind him. Prioritizing the mission after chasing after the two, the rest of the team left the two of them behind, choosing to trust in their abilities.

The thing of it was that they never did return.

She’d always told Luca to think things through before he acted. He could put not only himself but others in danger if he kept being as impulsive as he was. “What are the chances they’re alive?”

“It’s not very high... less than 5% even.”

Nothing was set in stone yet. There was a chance that either of them were still alive, but maybe seriously injured. She felt anxious at the idea that every minute wasted was another minute of being too late. If she manages to find them safe and almost sound, she was going to give both of them the biggest lecture of their damn lives.

Of course, she had to find them alive first to do just that.

If they were at risk of being captured, she knew for a fact that Ravein wouldn’t take that risk, and he’d keel over sooner than they could attempt to torture information out of him. Would the enemy really opt to kill the intruders? No, they’d at least consider capturing them alive for information. If something happened to Ravein, Luca wasn’t going to be able to keep himself calm. It would probably get to the point where they’d have to get rid of him than to waste the resources to subdue and capture him alive.

It truly was looking grim for her two idiots. It was looking even grimmer for anyone who would get in her way.

Sadness and or tears can wait until the truth is revealed. Until then, the only thing she knows is unbridled anger. She slams the door open, “The recovery team, put me on.” This wasn’t a request but a demand.

“I’m bringing my idiots back.” Dead or alive, they’re coming back.

#Yuuwen #Meme answered #Answered ask #Thanks for the ask!#Haru speaks #((Muse; Luca))#((Guest muse; Ravein))#((You see--- we didn't talk about not hurting Rav yesterday))#((It's a 2 for 1 muse death in this house!!!))#((But you see-- I didn't realllyyyyy kill them. It's up in the air- but highly implied they are dead))#((Did I cheat? Yes and no. If Luca died so did Ravein. If Ravein survives so did Luca! Am I using Rav against you? Yes))#((The question is if you're willing to kill Ravein too B3c )).

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rae0fsunsh1ne · 7 years

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You know you have a problem when you hear someone say "Bob Marley" (talking about the iconic musician) and your instinct is to correct them to "Bob Morley"

#bob morley #Bellamy blake #Bellamy #the 100 #the 100 crack #the100 crack #the100crack #the100 #the 1oo #the 1oo crack #the1ooCrack #mine

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femininenachos · 7 years

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Inspired in part by this post and by a really trashy UK women’s magazine called Take a Break.

#clexa crack #the 1oo crack #clexa #gossip grounder magazine #my manips

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weasal · 7 years

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BONUS:

SPOILER ALERT. Bellamy’s bum kills them all. Clarke gets the blame.

THE NOFUNDREAD FARTPOCALYPSE 2017.

This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done and I don’t even care.

#anything to laugh at bell-end's expense #the 1oo crack #the nofundread just got fun #fartpocalypse #clarke griffin #blarke #blorg #the loo #S4

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wonderloste · 2 years

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OK But ANY Alice dying -- ∗ 1oo﹕ sender has just died , receiver finds out . --- @ Darcy

RE : & MEME PROMPT.

@lannamused.

THERE’S A PART OF WONDERLAND THAT KNOWS , before anyone whose heart is planted in its soil does. Its intrinsic veins are linked to them : that outsider, so full of life and hope and opportunity. It’s as if the world opens up and swallows itself whole, a piece of its own mind melding back into the earth from which it had come. Amidst the madness of this realm, it often goes unnoticed. For Wonderland to sigh a breath of relief and twist its paths yet again, no one would bat an eye as the world around them shifted ... whether into darkness or light, most here were too preoccupied with the QUEEN’S HEAD ON A PIKE to pick up on the intricacies of where they fought their wars.

The White Rabbit ... is different. From this realm, from its people. His body comes to a halt, the striking pain of a stab in his chest as he doubles over hand sprawling out just in time to catch his face from smashing into the ground. It’s too sharp to even let out a cry, his lips parting instead for a strangled sob as tears immediately build on his lashes. It hurts. Somewhere across the bloodied fields of battle strewn throughout Heart Kingdom, the Jabberwocky lays the same, hand pressed to his chest and gasping for air. Darcy would never know : but they stood mirrored to one another through silent cries of agony.

“DARCY——“ The rabbit hardly registers the hand that wraps around his shoulder, trying and failing to steady him. It’s as if he’s made of lead, a hollowness borne inside of him that weighs him down to the world itself. It’s the KING who stands by his side, flustered and panicked. Valentin’s hand moves to push Darcy’s own away from his chest, peeling back the layers to look at the shattered clockface of his heart. He’s frantic, rushedly murmuring words of direction and comfort as he raises to his feet, quickly looking around them before gesturing in a way meant to instruct him to remain there. Were he of sound mind, perhaps he’d find it almost mystical, the way he turned on his heels, whip in hand, and seemed to become a completely different man from the one who had doted on him seconds prior.

But Darcy isn’t paying attention. When the King disappears into the thick of war where cards swing against cards, he assumes it’s to find aid for him, as he had done once before in a scene that played out nearly exactly the same. But that scene had been different. They hadn’t been on the Queen’s front doorstep, coated in the blood of her clockwork guards. And he hadn’t felt such anguish rip through him.

The warnings of the King are lost on him. Nothing had struck his heart, not this time : there was no prelude to this pain, to the sharp shattering of the face along his chest or the feeling of something being ripped out of him from the inside. The White Rabbit lets out a shuddering cry as he forces himself to lean up, just enough to force his arms forward, dragging himself along the ground. He pulls himself forward several inches, until he can struggle to push up onto his knees. There’s only one thing running through his panicked mind ———————— ALICE!

“Alice,” he whines, his voice cracking as he stumbles with great difficulty to his feet. Beneath him, the blackened castle grounds had slowly begun to blush with color and life. The further the black of the Queen’s rot faded, the faster the broken clock in his chest began to tick. People around him swerved in manic movements as the clock jumped from back to forth, ticks beating faster and slower at random. The world was chaos, a mess of slow motion and hyperspeed. He stumbled forward, willing the color that continued to blossom to stay frozen.

No. No. No. NO.

“Alice!” Even against the insatiable burn in his chest, he started to run through the madness that surrounded him, stumbling and narrowly avoiding the swing of swords from guards and Wonderlandians alike, but he didn’t care. It hurt more than anything he had ever felt in his life —— more than the heart that was ripped from his chest, than his soul being transposed into another, leaving him an empty shell. There was no prelude, no explanation ... nothing. Not unless—— “Alice!! Alice!! Please—” His voice mixed with sobs as it raised in volume, his weakness forgotten as he pushed both ally and foe from his path on his conquest to run closer to the castle. He stumbled over the mortal bodies of his people, of those he should have been more delicate and respectful for. It was not the first time Wonderland had ever watched the punctual white rabbit rush along its path, but never had he left so many flowers crushed in his wake.

As the brush mysteriously healed beneath him, his footfalls crushed the roses that popped up from the earth. No. Not like this. The Queen wasn’t dead. That had been the plan, hadn’t it? Even the Jabberwocky had agreed -- to hold off until the Queen was dead, to see if it would be enough to bring Wonderland back to life without the need to claim ALICE’S. That had been what he had worked for, hadn’t it? To do EVERYTHING, ANYTHING to keep them alive —— to bring them back to him, to be with the one he loved : to keep his promise. It was him and them and everything would be okay as long as the QUEEN WAS DEAD.

" FOREVER IS MINE WITH YOU , “ he had promised : he wouldn’t die, he wouldn’t leave them, they would both meet up at the end and they would be together. Because he couldn’t lose them again. Not again -- not after hundreds of thousands of years, not after finally being so close to saving them. A million times he had watched them die and only once had he ever promised them that he could rewrite their fate.

He had rewritten it! They had! Aleister was a testament! He had PROMISED——

“ . . . !? “

Lost in the panic of his own rushed heart-tick and running thoughts, he barely caught himself when someone grabbed him from behind, their full body slamming against him as arms enveloped him from behind. He let out a strangled gasp and struggled, but they were stronger than he. They grabbed his face, wrapping their hand over his eyes and forcing his head against their chest.

“DON’T LOOK!” The voice that boomed out at him could’ve belonged to nothing other than a COMMANDER. Faelen’s nails dug into Darcy’s skin with the force of how tightly he held him, his military training holding up against the rabbit’s frantic attempts to escape his hold. “Don’t look! Don’t!” It had been centuries since he had heard the Gryphon’s voice bark such defensive orders, and for a moment, he thought the man was going to wrestle him to the ground. Darcy cried out in frustration as his arms were pinned by the other holding him against his chest, trying to force him down to his knees. “You don’t want to see!”

——— “I HAVE TO SEE,” was the rabbit’s anguished response. He knew He already knew. There was no other explanation : not for the emptiness that filled him, nor the vibrant life that had begun to destroy the Red Queen’s rot, slowly eating away the black that had encompassed the entirety of the ground and sky. He sobbed openly against the gryphon’s chest, his hands balled into fists against him. “Let me go!” He didn’t even have time to register the cruelty of his command towards a man only trying to spare his heartbreak. “LET GO!” Faelen cried out himself in frustration as his arms snapped suddenly away from the rabbit, his body taking a step back from him against his will.

Rage and guilt and despair marked the expression of the gryphon as he stared at the rabbit, still crumbled with his back to the scene he’d tried to spare him. “Don’t,” he warned him, his voice cracking, but Darcy had already spun around to face the reality he and the Jabberwocky, wherever he may be in that moment, already knew.

“Ghh——“ The moment he spun around on his heels, Darcy’s body went rigid. He froze in place, hands raising to clasp over his mouth, no longer wary of the wound that bled onto his chest. He took an instinctive step backwards, almost stumbling on his own heel — or perhaps a body at his feet. The expression on his face a mixture of grief and horror, he stood terrorized by the scene before him as his blood seemed to run cold. The Red Queen stood before them, eyes narrowed down at the warmongering mess that sprawled out below her spot atop the guillotine stand. In her hands ——— fresh, warm, wet, still dripping with blood, severed from its body ...

His hands trembled against his face, his lips moving behind them in a failed attempt to form words. Instead, strangled sounds escaped him. His eyes were wide, tears that had already been falling now leaving unabashed stains along his cheeks. Behind him, he could barely make out the sound of Faelen fighting against his own curse, trying to force himself to reach out and grab him, but with no avail.

“Alice...” This couldn’t be real. He knew it was, he had known the moment he collapsed, but the world around him stilled to a crawl as the clock on his chest began to tick at an unreasonably slow pace. Every single person on that field, in this realm, began to move in a speed so slow that it was as if the world itself had conspired to recreate what he truly felt in that moment. Darcy didn’t even notice. He stared straight ahead at the head dangling from the Queen’s hands, held by the hair and out in the open, as if put on display. It was a bitter, disgusting display by a villain who had lost. Whose men lay dead at the behest of those who had taken back their home. One last, final act of DEFIANCE.

“N...” Darcy slowly started to walk forward, his knees trembling underneath him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from their lifeless eyes. The same eyes that had, only earlier that morning, narrowed at him when they’d smiled and told him that they loved him. The same eyes that had been alight with life and, beyond all hope he had ever had, adoration when they’d looked at him. His stomach churned. “No...” He could barely feel his legs, but still he stepped forward. “No, no, no, no...” His voice began to slowly degrade into barely audible whimpers. Only that morning...

———— CRACK!

Like a bolt of LIGHTNING, a harsh crack cut through the silence and broke the spell of Darcy’s heart. A whip lashed out through the slow motion and just like that, the world starting to move at a blindingly normal speed. THE KING’S whip wrapped around the QUEEN’S throat. At the opposite end, a furious Valentin, trailed by the BANDERSNATCH, yanked the woman forward. Beatrice let out a frustrated shriek and the souvenir she had claimed for herself rolled from her grasp, falling to the guillotine board where it lay discarded, the back of the head now facing the crowd of the army before it.

The White Rabbit was fast, but the Bandersnatch had always been faster. Darcy shot forward to rush towards the guillotine, but before he could make it, Amadeu rushed up behind him and tackled him down, pinning him to the ground beneath him by situating themselves upon his back.

“No.” Amadeu’s uncharacteristically serious, sympathetic voice cut through the riot that had broken out behind them, punctuated by the continuous cracks of Valentin’s weapon. They leaned down to lay entirely on the rabbit, making it entirely impossible for the other to escape. He saw Faelen’s shoes walk past him as he hurried towards where the guillotine had been, presumably to take care of them. “I’m sorry. But you shouldn’t see.”

In his heart, his broken, shattered, empty heart, he knew why they were doing this : why he was being protected from seeing something that would kill him. But there was no sense in him now. In response, Darcy finally released a loud, harrowing wail that he had been keeping in since the moment he had collapsed. Amadeu didn’t stop him as he shifted just enough to bring his arms up to his face where he lay on a bed of newly blooming, vibrant red roses. He buried his face in his hands and curled up on himself as much as having the other on top of him would allow. Against his palms, he screamed and he screamed and he screamed, until his throat was raw and his hands were numb from the pressure. But his sobbing didn’t slow down, didn’t find solace in the confirmation of his loss.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. He didn’t know the fate of the Queen who had stood before him moments before with the head of the one he’d loved more than anything in this entire world decapitated in her fingers : whether Valentin had killed her or sent her to rot or if she was still at their mercy. All he knew was the pounding of the clock in his chest as the cracks on the surface deepened —— and the tearing of his soul from him, as the one he’d entrusted it to rotted atop the guillotine ... or in the safety of the castle, had Gryphon spared them from the battlefield. He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

Even as the sounds of battle began to fade around him, even as familiar faces all gathered to kneel at his side, he didn’t care. The Bandersnatch leaned over to hold him and others followed. He felt the King’s kind arms envelop his head as Valentin leaned his torso over him : Tweedle-Dum’s sympathetic hand resting over his own that covered his face : even the soft touch of the Jabberwocky’s fingertips on his shoulder : the shadow of Faelen standing as close as his command had let him...

“Please...” There’s no one to plead to. Even those gathered around him couldn’t do anything, not even their God himself. He trembled beneath them, his wails in absolute contrast with the bright light that had spread over the Kingdom of Hearts. Vibrant reds and blues and whites swept across the gardens of the castle that had moments before been dead and wilted before them. It only feels like darkness until someone turns on the light —— and Alice had, hadn’t they? One way or another, even as he screamed in anguish, Wonderland blossomed beneath him. Even at the face of his failures, the realm found succulence in the life that had bled for its survival. A savior. The land didn’t care about such mortal things as hearts and love and forever. “Don’t——”

Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Please. How many times had he begged them? Promised them? Don’t leave me. I won’t leave you either, if that’s what you want. Hadn’t he said that —— if you need me ... you need only call. I’ll find you.

His fingers dug into his skin, his ears laying flat over his face, even as more and more of Wonderland’s denizens came to circle around him. The Cheshire’s tail awkwardly wrapped around his ankle in far off support, the Caterpillar whispering words of comfort from where she had crouched at his side, as Dinah stood a way’s away, turned away from the scene in solemn solidarity.

But none of it consoled him. How could it.

Don’t leave me. Every single thing they’d said that morning, every speech of the future and promise to see each other at the end of it — all of it replayed in his mind, until the clockface over his heart slowed so still, it nearly stopped. He sat there, sobbing into his arms, far longer than was respectable ... and far longer than Wonderland itself cared to spare him. The realm had already mended itself. And yet its people, perhaps far worse than they ever had been before, now laid upon its beautiful gardens with hearts of broken steel.

A million and one times the White Rabbit had now watched Alice die ... and only once had he ever broken his promise that he could rewrite their fate.

#slowly takes a long sip of juice mocktail #i................. stares into the distance #◟ ⋆ DARCY › although our vows are broken‚ i will meet you there.#◟ ⋆ IC › paint the roses red.#long post --#i refuse to put this under a read more #i'm suffering #thanks !#just left the alice in this as the generic MC so like ! this can be anyone ! have fun !#◟ ⋆ MISCELLANEOUS › drabbles.

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contrariian-archive · 2 years

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@publicabsent said: ∗ 1oo﹕ sender has just died , receiver finds out .

SHE’S BEEN STARING AT THE PAPER in her hands for... she doesn’t know how long. thank god laura’s taking a nap in her room, percy thinks distantly as the tears she’s been fighting back finally begin to fall. she has the wherewithal to set down the letter, terrified that she’ll ruin it with tearstains—terrified that she’ll destroy the last thing she has of her best friend. nettie’s gone. she’s gone, and she’s not coming back.

her mouth opens, but no words form. she can’t think of any; she can’t even breathe. all she can do is stare at the corner of her living room, the spot where the mortar cracked sometime before she moved in. lower lip trembles, breath still trapped in her throat. her lungs burn, and all she can think is: she must have been so scared. she must have been in pain. she must have—

arms wrap around her and she’s pulled into gabe’s broad chest. her knees buckle, but he holds her up as she takes a fistful of his shirt and lets out a choked sob, mindful even in the typhoon of her grief of her sleeping daughter in the other room. one of his thumbs rubs comforting circles into her back as she weeps, weeps more than she has since felix.

‘ she can’t— ’ percy says finally, voice shattered— ‘ she can’t be gone. she has to... she’ll come back, right ? even if she’s... ’ she can’t say dead. she can’t. ‘ even as a ghost, right ? she has to . ’

NONVERBAL PROMPTS.

#publicabsent #answered.#percy (ic).#percy ; it's gonna be my year (older).#HAHAHAH IM IN *PAIN*

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enokvirkow · 2 years

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∗ 1oo﹕ sender has just died, receiver finds out.

There was…. Nothing.

At first, at least. When he saw her lying there, he immediately knew. She was gone. It was a cold and hard truth. But one that seemed to shove Enok out of reality. And he didn’t even try to grasp for it and hold onto it. Because it was far too horrible. He wanted to tease her, make a joking commentary. About how she shouldn’t just sleep on the floor. Who did that? She always told the kids not to – so please, what kinda example was she giving now?

But such commentary never left his lips. Nothing did, as Enok slowly stepped closer. He couldn’t even feel his steps. It was all numb. Could he even still hear anything? No. Not really…

Slowly sinking down beside her, it was as if a veil covered everything at the same time. And it would never leave again.

There was a dark red puddle of blood seeping into the cracks of the ground beneath. Her hand was marred with it – and when Enok gently took it to engulf it with his own fingers, he could still feel a bit of warmth in her.

Why couldn’t he say anything? He should. He needed to. He felt it in his chest, burrowing and writhing. Stealing his breath and smothering his heart. But there wasn’t a single tone coming from him.

He knew who had done this.

And he still couldn’t believe that anyone could do this to her. Aerith. She had been nothing but kind and understanding when no one else was. She had never been too soft. She knew what was right and what was wrong. She had always seemed to know where a path would lead, even when there was just darkness. Why would anyone want to take that from the world…

They could have taken him, the others, anyone.

But not her.

What was he supposed to do now?