>>6181214There is a child on a boat in the water. It sails toward a massive spire of ice. <span class="mu-i">You remember the day you ran him through with a spear.</span> You thought you had saw your freedom pulsing through his veins, that you need only liberate. And once that first one fell, the flood gates would open. Nothing could be worse than killing a child, could it not?
How about doing it for nothing? How about realizing everything you fought for wasn't something that could have been yours to begin with? That stepping down to the depths you have was done for nothing but the love of the game? That, believing in a lie, you did what you had done with wide eyes and a toothy shit-eating grin?
In this hell, you seek your redemption.
You step forth into the water. It stings, it burns, it sends that awful needle chill into your bones. This is nothing compared to what awaits you and the boy both, so you keep moving forward. At first it's ankle deep, then knee deep, waist deep, and you're swimming through ice-cold water. The surface is hard to see beneath, but when your head sinks beneath the lapping tide, you see that the glaciers here sink deep, deep into the milky blackness beneath you. The darkness has the appearance of long arms, reaching up to pull anything that falls too deep under.
Pedaling through the freezing water, you pull yourself onto the boat. The boy has every right to be afraid of you, and he cowers at the rear. Through the shivers, you mutter that you are sorry. You want to fix the mistakes you have made.
<span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-i"><span class="mu-s">But you can't fix this mistake you have made,</span></span></span> calls the familiar voice accompanied with the flutter of wings. <span class="mu-r"><span class="mu-i"><span class="mu-s">It is a fate that would have claimed him yesterday, today, or tomorrow. Why regret? Why fight?</span></span></span>
