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That moment of hesitation is all it takes for Phillip to land his shot. A searing pain beyond anything you have felt in your life erupts throughout the left side of your skull. You grit your teeth to suppress your scream as a torrent of blood gushes out of your socket. You can't...see anything from your left eye.
As smoke leaks out of the revolver's barrel, there's a deafening silence hanging in the air. A disgusted grunt from Phillip breaks this precarious silence. He lowers his revolver before jabbing his other arm in your direction. "WHY?"
You try to choke out a response but the agonizing pain screaming throughout your skull prevents you from saying anything. This only enrages him further. "WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU SHOOT? THAT'S LAME! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO AT LEAST TRY TO SHOOT BACK AT ME! WHY?"
You're eventually able to maintain enough focus to force out a few words out of your clenched tight jaw. "It wouldn't be right." Your legs completely give up holding your weight, sending you down to your knees. You force yourself to take in a deep, long breath. "I already have so much blood on my hands. I'm not spilling more." You lower your head to avoid his gaze.
Metallic, clunky footsteps approach you. You flinch as the cold steel of the barrel is pressed up right against your temple. "ISN'T THAT FUNNY? YOU THINK IT'S AS EASY AT THAT. OH, IF I DON'T KILL HIM, HE'LL FORGIVE ME! HE'LL SEE I'VE CHANGED! THAT'S WHY YOU'RE DOING THIS, HUH?" Your jaw clenches shut in absolute agony when he shoves the barrel into your bleeding socket.
Yet you still don't aim at him. Even as he puts pressure on the trigger, ready to blow your brains out. "No." You croak out. "I lived a full life. One you never had. You're just taking it back now. Pull the trigger. Do it." You brace for impact but it never comes. You let out a pained hiss when he yanks the barrel out of your eye socket.
"YOU <span class="mu-s">HAVE</span> CHANGED, HAVEN'T YOU? THE DIRECTOR I KNEW WOULD'VE SHOT ME DEAD WITHOUT A SECOND THOUGHT. BUT YOU-" He throws his revolver to the ground. "You're just a sad, pathetic old man." That's...that's his voice. A nervous, stressed man in his 30s. Not a machine's. "I guess this is a fitting end for you. You get to live with what you did."
The robot begins to limp away on its broken legs. Your body finally gives up and falls to the floor. You force your head up to get one last look at him. Through the tears and blood blurring your vision, you swear you see a young man standing in the distance.
"We both wasted our lives with this, haven't we?" Phillip croaks out a laugh. "Consumed by our own regrets and desires, we didn't even know how much time we spent obsessing over the other. I should've moved on a long time ago. So should you. See you later."
You simply force yourself to smile despite the pain. "...See you later." That's the last you hear or see of him as he disappears into the sandy winds. As consciousness fails you, you feel at peace for the first time in your life.
