#morax angst

Imagine your own divinity was flickering. Thin, dim, like a candle dying against a storm. The weight of your body no longer belonged to you. Every breath came shallow, every blink dragged the world further away. Yet, you refused to close your eyes. Not yet. Not until he came. Not until he saw.

Imagine, it wasn't vengeance. Not truly. Just a cruel, weary sort of longing, to be witnessed. To let him see what his choice had done.

Imagine the way your head tilted, sleep tugging cruelly at your consciousness and the pain that shot down your neck almost felt human. You let it ground you, one last anchor in this ruin you called a land.

Imagine, just then came the sound of footsteps. Rushed. Heavy. Familiar. And you almost laughed. When you looked up, your lips curved, trembling with the effort. "… Morax."

Imagine he looked nothing like the god of contracts or the conqueror of demons. No, the being standing before you looked frantic. Mortal. His composure shattered, his golden eyes wide with something dangerously close to grief. How poetic, you thought dimly. The god who built mountains brought low by something as fragile as love.

Imagine he crossed the distance in seconds, his hands trembling as they reached for you. So gently, as if afraid you might shatter. As if he hadn't already left you to crumble.

Imagine you remembered the last time you saw those hands. Leaving. Reaching for her. The 'friend' he swore to protect. The one he abandoned you for. The one whose life weighed more than yours in his eternal scales. And look where that choice led him. To a hall filled with fallen gods and a throne slick with divine blood. His throne. Your throne now.

Imagine the way a soft, broken sound escaped you. A laugh that tasted of iron. "You're late." His hands caught you before you slid off the seat. You hadn't even realized how far gone you were until his warmth burned through your fading divinity.

Imagine the world blurred and steadied. You blinked and his hood was gone, revealing the face that once made you forget war itself. Amber eyes, shining, desperate, familiar.

"Why." You whispered, barely more than breath. "Why is it that in order to save her… You have to lose me?" Morax froze. The question hung between you like judgment itself. His jaw trembled before he spoke, voice low and heavy with something that might've been regret. "Because… If I don't save her, you'll never forgive me."

Imagine the way you smiled then. So faint, so sad. He was right. That was the inevitable truth. He knew you too well, your heart, your pride, your impossible sense of fairness. Maybe that's why it didn't hurt as much as it should've. Maybe it was already destined that you'd love him enough to understand even this.

"You knew me so well, my Morax."

Imagine your fingers twitched against his armor, then stilled. The golden light in your veins dimmed, fading into nothing. Your head came to rest against his chest.

and Imagine, the tremor that followed wasnt just the quake of the dying land. It was him, holding you too tightly, as if his grip could keep your spirit from leaving. The earth began to shudder violently, splitting the bloodied marble. The last remnants of your power seeped into the ground, turning to dust, to crystal, to memory.

Imagine he called your name again and again, voice breaking through the roar of the world collapsing. And for a moment. Just before the light left completely. You thought you heard the sound of mountains weeping.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°