"Damn, you just keep growing." A familiar, slightly snarky but sarcastic voice woke Aurelius. Suddenly it felt like there was sand in his eyes as he realized it wasn't Damian nor any other living soul. "I thought you were too huge before, but now look at you." The boy was blurry in his vision, and the surroundings were dark, but Aurelius could still make out the boy's main features. Black hair that had been given up on in the styling process and playful, narrow eyes. "I can't believe I ever beat you up. You're one scary fucking guy, you know that?"

"B— Balgair?" Aurelius' voice wavered, breaking. He lifted himself from the ground and leaned back against a rock. Then his vision became clear, and he could see Balgair again sitting on a mossy rock a few steps away from him. He wore a set of clothes Aurelius had only seen on him at some point on their travels to Akario—the city of the Red Lake. It was made up of a white dress shirt, a thin black tie, and a dark brown overcoat.

Aurelius, dressed in his most recent outfit, looked around and saw that they were in a forest. It was familiar, but he didn't remember from where. Not the place he had slaughtered the Evaporation Squadron. He would remember every single detail of that location forever.

Balgair laughed in that young, reckless way of his, like he didn't care about whatever sound he made. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he said, but quickly scratched his head afteward. "Sorry, that was cliche as hell. Well, anyways..."

Aurelius looked at his feet before bringing his knees to his chest and hugging them. He then looked up at the black sky. He could hear Balgair slump and sigh, but he didn't say anything for a while.

They just stayed there in each other's company. Aurelius wasn't sure if he liked it or not; part of him yearned to rush to Balgair and shake him, hug him, and tell him he was his best friend. The other side of him withheld those desires. Connection came at a price, he had learned. To feel warmth was to shiver when it was lost. Not only that, but its loss was his fault entirely, and it harmed those outside of him. He couldn't allow that any longer.

His was a cultivation of self-reliance. His path was changing, but he couldn't forgive himself for allowing his past to happen.

"Look, Aurelius, you can't become like me," Balgair said, causing Aurelius' hearing to perk up, but he didn't move his eyes from the sky. "Or worse. Isolating yourself only leads to misery. For you and others."

"But it doesn't lead to death," Aurelius mumbled.

Balgair snorted. "Everything leads to death. And don't get all survivor's guilty on my ass."

Aurelius chuckled briefly but stiffled anything that tried to follow as the glimmer of amusement was followed by intense pain in his soul. The sadness was unbearable, so he didn't touch it. He went around and continued on like he had gone through.

It was a wonder how Balgair's crude humor had appealed to Aurelius from the very beginning, especially when he was at his lowest.

"I'm sorry," Aurelius lowered his head to look Balgair in the eyes. "I'm so sorry. If I'd been as strong as I am now—"

"Oh, shut the fuck up," Balgair said, reeling back as if exasperated. Then he returned to his original position, and there was something genuine. "If a demon came to me and told me I had to repeat my life eternally exactly the way I lived it the first time, that demon would be my angel for one simple reason. You know why?" Aurelius stayed quiet, blinking frequently. "For you and for Cade. The time I spent with you two is the reason my eternal recurrence wouldn't be torture. It was the happiest time of my life."

Aurelius rubbed his hands together for some warmth in the world that was growing so cold. He tried to process Balgair's words but they didn't quite sink in.

Then Balgair caught a brief laughing fit that absorbed Aurelius' attention. Balgair laughed like a mad witch, which made Aurelius furrow his eyebrows in amusement, but then he managed to calm himself and tell what was so funny. "My bad for third-wheeling, though. If I hadn't been there, you and Cade would've fucked already."

Aurelius frowned, but it only seemed to make Balgair laugh more. But it wasn't just Balgair. He wiped his eyes and quieted before pointing with his thumb where the sound was coming from.

Aurelius turned his head and tuned in. He heard laughter and rustling deeper in the forest. Familiar laughter. All too familiar. Suddenly it clicked, and he recognized the forest for the place where they had camped after the incident in Akario. Where he and Balgair hnd wrestled and choked on laughter at immature jokes.

He found himself wiping his eyes as well and realized that those times, even though filled with hardship, were the happiest of them all. Because he had Gadreel and Cade. Because they had each other.

Aurelius turned his head back to Balgair, who already had his eyes on him, a knowing look in his eyes. "Go back to her, Aurelius. You need her, and she needs you. Take her to your home. You're safe now."

Aurelius' chest filled with the idea of Cade and his mother at the same table with him and it even seemed possible to make that paradise. "But can they forgive me? I left Cade just like I left my mother."

Balgair hopped down from the rock where he sat and squatted in front of Aurelius in a relaxed manner. "Look, they're your family. You've made mistakes, yeah, but you acknowledge them, and you're sorry. They'll see that. They'll understand."

Balgair put a hand out and looked for some kind of contact. Aurelius stayed still in his limbo of reflection. Seeing that, Balgair just bumped him on the arm. However, the light bump spread like a shockwave and turned into an enormous radiating pain throughout Aurelius's body.

Balgair stepped away as Aurelius twisted in pain, his breathing intensifying. "Sorry for the pain," Blagair said, a friendly, apologetic expression on his face as he stepped away. "It's time to wake up."

The radiating pain exploded inside Aurelius body, and with a new environment assaulting his senses, he took on a burst of nausea and gagged. Something hot rose from his system, and he puked an amalgamation of red and black onto the white sheets.

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He was panicked at first but quickly remembered falling unconscious after rendezvousing with Damian.

He got up from the bed, but lack of balance led him to slam into a wall before pushing off and putting his hands on another. His filthy, bloody hands. They were still filthy. He was wholly uncleaned and covered in the gore of a hundred men from head to toe.

His hair was crispy with dried blood and held in it tiny pieces that Aurelius didn't want to know the origin of. All he could think of was relieving himself of the terrible ache in his body and mind.

Aurelius stumbled out of the room directionlessly, shaking his numb limbs. His filthy outfit was sticking to his skin in the most uncomfortable way possible. He breathed through his mouth, fearing he would throw up again if he used his nose that stung already from a hot smell.

"Ah, Aurelius!" Damian's voice carried over to his ears, and Aurelius looked to his left, where he saw the blurry image of a man rushing at him. He blinked and saw Damian with dark bags under his eyes, coming to him from his pristine white sofa.

He grabbed Aurelius by the arm. Aurelius flinched away at first, but then allowed him to help.

"I'm sorry for not cleaning you up... I was..." Damian trailed off. "Please, come and take a seat."

Aurelius' mind had gone into a fog. He stepped over to the living room as if unconscious and plunged down onto the soft white couch, only the slightest thought about how he would sully it in the back of his mind.

Damian sat next to him awkwardly while Aurelius stared straight ahead.

"Are you... all right?" Damian asked cautiously.

Aurelius shook his head too many times before stopping and falling silent. "No," he mumbled, his voice breaking. He coughed and swallowed before leaning back and relaxing into the couch, settling into his own filth, the monster he was. Then something occurred to him, and nothing objected to it. He found himself wondering why he hadn't thought of it before. "Do you have liquor?"

"Y— yes... I do. Why?"

Aurelius kept staring into the distance. "Can you give it to me?" He framed it like a question, but the 'can' in the beginning was no more than a decoration.

Damian stood up and walked past Aurelius' vision. Aurelius looked around, his vision finally growing more conscious now that he had something to look forward to.

On his right were the large windows that showed the city of Duresh down below. The same windows in front of which he had first announced his plan to anyone. Now that mission had been complete. And he felt nothing. Less than nothing. Just a vast pit devoid of even color that was his entire being.

In front of him was an oval-shaped glass table. To his left was the kitchen, which Damian then stepped out of with a tall bottle of orange liquid in his grasp.

He sat back next to Aurelius and gave him a glass. Aurelius took the bottle and wouldn't have listened to objections, even if there were any. There weren't.

He opened the bottle and threw away the metal cork before putting his feet on the glass table, throwing his head back, and pouring the fluid down his throat. A pleasant flame spread, enveloping his mouth and overtaking his senses. And for just a second, he felt satisfied.

Damian sat meekly next to him. Aurelius glanced at him and poured into the glass in his hand, which was originally intended for Aurelius himself. "Drink," Aurelius said. Damian did exactly so. Only then did Aurelius think to ask, "How long was I unconscious?"

"Three days, I think."

"You think?"

"Three days," he affirmed.

Aurelius leaned forward and sighed. "And how did I get here?"

"I carried you... after you collapsed."

"You carried me all the way here from the capital?" Aureliis asked, turning to look at Damian, who seemed to move back slightly. "Thank you." Aurelius meant it. Then he took another chug. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose. "You must be exhausted. I won't bother you any more than I already have," he said. Damian didn't seem to leave, so he continued. "Don't worry, I'll leave tomorrow. You've done your job." He still didn't leave, so Aurelius opened his eyes to see what was up.

"Could I have another?" Damian asked, offering his glass.

Aureliis rubbed his face, only noticing then that he still had his gloves on. It didn't bother him. "I'm sorry, you don't have to drink with me." Damian didn't withdraw his glass. "Seriously," Aurelius said, his tone intentionally deeper.

"We ought to celebrate."

"Celebrate what?" Aurelius scoffed.

"Orpheus is dead. Uzbec too. It deserves a toast."

Aurelius shook his head slightly but poured Damian a glass nevertheless.

"May they burn in hell," Damian said, raising his glass before drinking.

Aurelius said nothing but drank as well.

"So what happens now?" Damian asked after a while.

"What?" Aurelius mumbled almost back in the same fog as he sipped away.

"To the liveD. What becomes of it?"

"The liveD lives in the nation's heart," Aurelius sais with a shrug. "I don't know." Aurelius rubbed his face and took another sip while he thought. "All I know is how to erase. I knew Orpheus needed to be gone, but now I don't know what will follow." His voice was one of a rambler. "I only hope that the king keeps the order and the people are able to prevent the rise of Nexus again or others like it."

"Ah, I see," Damian said. Aurelius could hear the disappointment in his voice. The sure realization that all this could've been for nothing. "Listen, I think you're a great man. Honestly. I'm sorry for how I treated you before."

Aurelius slowly reclined. "Aargh, fucking hell."

"...I'm sorry?"

"Why do people keep saying the same things?" Aurelius turned to Damian with a sudden movement and watched him flinch. "Look at yourself. You're terrified of me." Aurelius turned back, drinking more before coughing mixed with laughter. "How could I be a great man... when even my own allies don't trust me?"

"I do. It's just..." Fortunately, Damian trailed off before Aurelius' head exploded. But then he continued. "You're a symbol, Aurelius, of hope. You are the fight against evil. You make people believe in a better future. One where the terrors of this world are past and..."

"Such a world doesn't exist," Aurelius broke in with a deep, monotone statement.

Damian sighed. "You don't have to do everything alone. The world just needs more people like you. People who want to do good. And people look up to you. You're an inspiration to them. They want to be just like you. And once there are enough people like that, then everyone will be happy, or at least happier."

"Just like me." Aurelius scoffed, took a sip, and the color and humor drained from his face in an instant. "People keep saying that. I want to be just like you; I want to be just like you," Aurelius tore at his hair with a grunt. "I get it! Everybody wants to be me. I am the dream!" He took another drink and erupted in a short fit of coughs before settling back down, sinking deeper into the couch. "Hell, I thought so myself once... That I would be happy if I made myself this pinnacle of strength." He rubbed his forehead with his fingers, relishing the touch of his gloves, like the hands of another. "Fact is, I didn't even notice it when I became it." His eyes stung as he looked at the roof. He took another sip. Then doubled. No cough. "To be honest, I wish it had stayed that way," he said, his voice like gravel. He blinked and felt something wet at the corner of his eyes. He suppressed it out of instinct and wiped it away. "Because when I finally did realize... that I had become it..." His eyes were red. "That I had become exactly like my father... like I always wanted." His voice broke, and his body shook. "I was so, so disappointed."

He sank back and was about to take another sip but stopped and threw away the bottle that crashed and broke. The emotion he had locked inside came bursting out, and he covered his face as he wept. Even then, he did so silently, only giving away the slightest shake in the shoulders and the occasional sniff.

However, when he felt a hand fall on his shoulder in silent understanding, it was somehow reassuring. He didn't need words. He didn't want them. It was, for that moment at least, enough that he could finally weep aloud once again.