✘ ███ ║This past is our only present
Flickering flames and the sound of burning echo'd through out the night. The permeate scent of bitter bark burning to its death had been the only thing offered to this decaying world. When had the last time he'd breathed something sweet? Something off chance exclusive to remedy the aching feelings his chest felt. Nothing did though, the only thing he had to settle his feelings had been his companion. Who by which point, had grown weary by now as he too mourned for the loss of all those they fought with. They were the last of the surviving, with no sight other then the carcasses of those they once hold close to them.
✘ ███ ║ “Does it matter anymore?”
Words came out of his lips unbeknownst to him, they were the core of his feelings as he stared out into the burning forest. Wondering when the next arisen would sprout out to end the two lives who struggled to go on. The cuts along his skin burned and yet he felt numb because of them. Numb for the pain he felt deep within his chest, rooted through the truth's of inevitable death did nothing but make those burning sensations grow numb. He felt far worse within, and he knew that hope they had fought for was relinquished and no longer could they strive for anything. With their princess gone, what does it matter anymore?
✘ ███ ║ “Does it GOD DAMN MATTER ANYMORE!?”
The breaking words that seemed choked out as the wyvern rider stiffled anything from his mind to coax some sort of meaning through all this. They were done for, goners, and it broke him that the power he built up on himself would no less do nothing. Nothing and he was merely but a pawn to instigate death in a slow and unmeasurable way. So his voice, calling out to any hope that cared for him when all his life nothing seemed to except him. Only he. Which was why he imparted on letting the others suffocate themselves, leaving himself out of all their inferences even though inevitably he was caught between them. Caught up in their jokes, their laughs, their happiness and it dragged him down to this moment. Words choked out as he found his knees buckling under all the weight.
This wasn't him, by gods this was not him. Lucid thoughts trying to prickle at his emotional state trying to gather back his conscious. It was all but lost to him though, the ground gripped tightly into his hands. Dirt, grass, gravel, reminding him that he had been damned to stay alive. To look at the faced of all those he loved so dearly for, his princess. His friend. His best friend. These idiots he found himself loving more than hating. All except the face of Inigo, who he had to remind himself was possibly watching him break down before him. As if struck by embarrassment by the unholy scene. Gerome slammed his fist into the ground, mask falling off his face. It was clear the purple circles under his eyes showed how they had been days without sleep, redden from the tears even he managed to weep in slight moments, dirt buried across his skin from the lack of proper care to his body. There was no slight indication that the two had encountered any good moments past them.
✘ ███ ║ “Where do we go from here.”
A statement, not a question. Direct with such calloused annotation, he had clearly managed to regain his voice with mild vendetta against fighting the unjustful fate they seemed to be headed towards. Still looking to the ground, he sat back against his legs. Letting thoughts linger throughout his mind, tired for so many reasons. Tired for so many things, even Minerva was gone from him. Lost in this world that was undeserving of her. All to keep him alive in this moment besides Inigo, uncertain of what their future was even to hold at this point.
