#vector the

His bones crunch. They resist against this invader who's sinking its teeth into his brain, teeth dripping drool that seeps into the flesh and twists him. Espio can feel himself rotting away to make way for the thing that he doesn't even have a name for but is replacing him.

Vision blurs. Throat gurgles.

Vector's hands reach out and he has the sense enough to snatch away, stumble back. "Away," he groans, his voice contorting to this thing's, a chuckle at his own resistance building in his throat. Choking him. Choking the life out of him. Carving a hole for the soul to infect like mould, stabbing its roots into the tender flesh.

Charmy doesn't understand. His voice is evershifting, everchanging, too much for Espio to keep track of and soon Charmy's face is a blurry movement as his eyes peel upwards as if to look for something holy to save him. Ascension. Descension. Whatever this thing is claws at his mouth, another avenue to enter.

He feels his lips upturn, his eyes descend down again but his vision doesn't follow, a haze obscuring the world. His body collapses a heap on the ground that doesn't register the hurried tugs of hands that could dwarf his face and hands that fit inside his palms. It snaps awake, folding over itself to stand and Charmy's bewilderment cuts through.

"Uhhhhh."

Ughhhhh.

Espio lands in the pit of his stomach, the acids lapping up at him, breaking down his flesh and bones to nutrition for this creature that's overtaken him. There is no movement. All it is doing is standing still, lying in wait. Wait for him to disappear. Assure for no return.

He climbs to his chest, takes root in his heart. It's filled with the people who deserve to be there. It's warmed by the pair standing before his body.

Cling onto an artery. Grit his teeth. He's not done yet. He's not a goner.