["Xerx, dear. Are you ready?" calls the old woman suddenly, her voice firm, but also terribly fond. "I won't be able to buy you much time...but it should be...more than enough for you, right?"
Even as his past self perks up and declares that of course he can do it, Break smiles back at the soft look on Sheryl's face, her unshakeable belief in him. There's just something so empowering in having someone around who knows exactly what you can do, and how to help you do it. Once again, he takes Ange's elbow.]
There is nothing in the darkness. No sound, no sense of anything that would allow someone to anchor themselves in space or reality, save that Break's grip on Ange's arm remains solid. Blessedly, it only lasts a few moments, and when the darkness dissipates Break is clear across the room, having left a pile of corpses in his wake.
"Owl can conjure up a soundless darkness. Scary, isn't it?" Sheryl notes serenely, as her own Chain -- a shadowy, black-winged owl -- lands elegantly on her outstretched hand. "Right now, that darkness is a valuable ally to a blind man."
Said blind man is presently gasping as though he'll never get enough air in his lungs ever again.]
...although, if you want to know something really stupid -- once we got to the bottom of all the lies we'd all been told, it came to light that we all wanted...the same thing. To preserve the world as it was. [He sounds almost wistful as Sheryl apologizes for being unable to help him further, and Sharon hikes up her skirts to hoof it back to his side, tottering through the grisly mess he's left behind.] I am told that, after my death...my best friend was able to convince those who were left to join our side, and they fought together.
[The memory begins to flicker, voices blurring. There's more drama to come before the scene ends, but the fight itself is finished.]
Ah. I suppose that's what the place wanted to taunt me about, this time. Had we sorted things out earlier, perhaps I might have lived.
[Break's smile is dark and wretched. Good grief, he hates Trench.]
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["Xerx, dear. Are you ready?" calls the old woman suddenly, her voice firm, but also terribly fond. "I won't be able to buy you much time...but it should be...more than enough for you, right?"
Even as his past self perks up and declares that of course he can do it, Break smiles back at the soft look on Sheryl's face, her unshakeable belief in him. There's just something so empowering in having someone around who knows exactly what you can do, and how to help you do it. Once again, he takes Ange's elbow.]
There's a scary bit next. Please stay at my side.
[Abruptly, the entire memory is plunged into darkness.
There is nothing in the darkness. No sound, no sense of anything that would allow someone to anchor themselves in space or reality, save that Break's grip on Ange's arm remains solid. Blessedly, it only lasts a few moments, and when the darkness dissipates Break is clear across the room, having left a pile of corpses in his wake.
"Owl can conjure up a soundless darkness. Scary, isn't it?" Sheryl notes serenely, as her own Chain -- a shadowy, black-winged owl -- lands elegantly on her outstretched hand. "Right now, that darkness is a valuable ally to a blind man."
Said blind man is presently gasping as though he'll never get enough air in his lungs ever again.]
...although, if you want to know something really stupid -- once we got to the bottom of all the lies we'd all been told, it came to light that we all wanted...the same thing. To preserve the world as it was. [He sounds almost wistful as Sheryl apologizes for being unable to help him further, and Sharon hikes up her skirts to hoof it back to his side, tottering through the grisly mess he's left behind.] I am told that, after my death...my best friend was able to convince those who were left to join our side, and they fought together.
[The memory begins to flicker, voices blurring. There's more drama to come before the scene ends, but the fight itself is finished.]
Ah. I suppose that's what the place wanted to taunt me about, this time. Had we sorted things out earlier, perhaps I might have lived.
[Break's smile is dark and wretched. Good grief, he hates Trench.]