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4.2

A giant silhouette darkened an alleyway, moving from the crushed body of a young man. The silhouette mumbled, “So frail.”

He raised a bloodied hand to his forehead, whispering inaudible words. He rested his head against the wall, wiping the gore from his metal hands onto the concrete. “So frail.”

Suddenly he turned, as though responding to a noise.

“Get away from me,” he growled into the empty air around him. Then focused his eyes on a single point of empty space.

He swings an arm at nothing. “Get away!” He lashed out again at multiple figures that weren't there.

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“No. You’re wrong. You thanked me for it! I saw it in your eyes. Gratitude!” He threw a punch into the air, stumbling forward from the shift of his weight into nothing.

He stumbled out of the alley and into the empty street. “You wanted me to do it. I wanted to do it for you.”

Rain began to fall, snapping against his leather jacket and metal chest. “I set you free, didn’t I?”

A street light illuminated his face. Geracht. His eyes alight with a mixture of exhilaration and glory.

Then the people surrounding him suddenly disappeared from his view. He saw himself instead on a beach, a small sandcastle in front of him. The sun was setting beyond the waves. His face twisted into a pained expression. “No...”

A wave rolled in, lapping at the edge of the castle. Small footprints filled with water and were washed away.

“No...”