Work Text:
It was just an itch at first, constant and annoying but ultimately brushed off as a mere itch.
I̶t̶ ̶s̶h̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶e̶n̶ ̶b̶r̶u̶s̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶.̶
Two time had been coughing quite a bit lately, they assumed it was just a simple illness. Their immune system had taken quite the hit once they stopped sleeping, or perhaps they just had more time to notice when they were getting bad. A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶, or rather the 'vision' of him, seemed worried and kept insisting it was something much much worse then a simple cough. They brushed him off, and unfortunately, no matter how persistent this vision was there was nothing he could do. He wasn't even real, he couldn't convince them to do anything let alone force them to. They knew he was just a 'vision', a figment of their imagination... And with that they knew what it meant, deep down, they h̶o̶p̶e̶d̶ knew it was something more.
P̶e̶r̶h̶a̶p̶s̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶d̶i̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶l̶l̶n̶e̶s̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶f̶r̶e̶e̶d̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶m̶.̶
Two time stopped emerging from their cabin, the only time the other survivors saw them now was during rounds. Unfortunately for them, this illness made it difficult to stay awake... Though, sleep had been much more pleasant since A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ prioritized stopping them from driving their dagger into their chest again over getting revenge. They hadn't deserved that, yet it had improved something they found comfort in at least. Their dreams stayed, however unfortunate that may be, though they were now much more manageable. That first round with A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ had transformed their sleep into endless replays of murders and prayers, now their dreams started with murders and ended with.. comfort.
T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶d̶e̶s̶e̶r̶v̶e̶ ̶s̶u̶c̶h̶ ̶d̶r̶e̶a̶m̶s̶.̶
The Spawn had completely abandoned them now, leaving behind not even it's heavenly(?) whispers. However, their mind had seemed.. much more calm because of it? Noob had even approached them during a round and invited them to make Kandi (which they had learned what was due to his odd amount of knowledge on it) with her! How pleasant that was!! They had made one for 007n7 as an.. apology for hurting his feelings previously. After they gave it to him, they noticed the piece of jewelry on his wrist during various rounds. They felt joyous at that, how odd.
T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶a̶l̶s̶o̶ ̶m̶a̶d̶e̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶,̶ ̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶g̶i̶v̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶.̶.̶
{ ꥟ }
That itch had developed into a full blown genuine cough that haunted them during rounds, leading to Two time being avoided yet again. They felt incredibly saddened because of this, despite being used to it previously. They had been rather glad the others were talking to them before, perhaps they had grown attached to hourly conversations. How utterly idiotic. They didn't need socialization. It was a waste of time. Their time could be spent doing things much better then speaking with others, like praying to the Spawn! The Spawn would cure them of this illness, definitely. They were much more content when the Spawn guided them through rounds anyways, therefore the only attachment they needed was that to the Spawn!
A̶n̶d̶ ̶A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶,̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶n̶e̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶e̶n̶ ̶s̶e̶v̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶b̶y̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶v̶e̶r̶y̶ ̶d̶a̶g̶g̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶c̶a̶r̶r̶i̶e̶d̶.̶
They found their cough incredibly annoying however, and if it was annoying for them they couldn't imagine how infuriating their illness was for the other survivors. They didn't blame the others for avoiding them again, they were a liability. They were a weak link. They were an easy target. They were pathetic. They were deserving of being avoided yet again. They were almost useless as their entire abilities required stealth, and this cough ruined any 'sneaking' they could do. How terrible they were for longing for connection once again. How greedy they were for yearning for both the Spawn and the other survivors. How utterly disgusting they were for daring to attempt to regain attachments to those who weren't the Spawn. Amarah would be disappointed in them for such blasphemy, they needed to pray more.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶'̶v̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶e̶n̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶r̶i̶e̶d̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶p̶r̶a̶y̶e̶d̶ ̶u̶n̶t̶i̶l̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶r̶o̶a̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶r̶a̶w̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶k̶n̶e̶e̶s̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶b̶l̶o̶o̶d̶y̶.̶
Unfortunately for them, praying didn't seem to do anything but make their voice even more hoarse then it was before. That didn't help at all, as now they were unable to shout to warn other survivors when the killer was near unbeknownst. That made them practically a disease in itself, as now they were completely useless. They couldn't warn others, they couldn't stun, they could rarely even charge their second life. They had no abilities to get away from the killer, their only other ability they had that wasn't their stab was just crouching and somehow becoming semi-transparent... Though that was rarely useful at all, as they were no where near transparent enough to be considered 'invisible' so it didn't even help them hide from the killer.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶k̶n̶e̶w̶ ̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶c̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶r̶o̶a̶t̶ ̶o̶r̶ ̶l̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶v̶o̶i̶c̶e̶.̶
{ ꥟ }
Petals. They coughed up petals onto their bed during the designated sleep period. Purple petals nonetheless. Oh Spawn, of course they were purple. Small petals, with a subtle gradient from dark to light purple. Only two, yet they knew they'd be seeing more. These symptoms reminded them of something, yet they couldn't quite place what. It was on the tip of their tongue.... Ha... Hana..? Hana something, they couldn't quite remember the rest. Perhaps they'd remember soon, during the worst possible moment they could bet. And then, when they had the chance to properly think of it, they'd forget the name once again. They wondered if that was the Spectre playing games with them for just their mind slipping further.
They truly didn't know what to do with the petals, so they just hid them under their pillow.
H̶e̶ ̶p̶u̶l̶l̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶k̶n̶i̶f̶e̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶u̶n̶d̶e̶r̶n̶e̶a̶t̶h̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶p̶i̶l̶l̶o̶w̶,̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶e̶y̶e̶s̶ ̶d̶r̶o̶w̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶r̶y̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶f̶e̶l̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶f̶a̶c̶e̶ ̶b̶u̶r̶n̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶s̶h̶a̶m̶e̶.̶
"̶T̶i̶m̶e̶y̶.̶.̶.̶ ̶Y̶o̶u̶ ̶c̶a̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶k̶e̶e̶p̶ ̶d̶o̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶.̶"̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶s̶a̶i̶d̶ ̶g̶e̶n̶t̶l̶y̶,̶ ̶t̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶k̶n̶i̶f̶e̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶o̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶c̶l̶o̶a̶k̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶r̶y̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶,̶ ̶y̶e̶t̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶s̶e̶e̶m̶e̶d̶ ̶u̶n̶a̶v̶o̶i̶d̶a̶b̶l̶e̶.̶
"̶I̶-̶ ̶I̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶.̶.̶ ̶I̶'̶m̶ ̶s̶o̶r̶r̶y̶.̶.̶.̶"̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶m̶u̶t̶t̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶u̶n̶d̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶b̶r̶e̶a̶t̶h̶,̶ ̶s̶t̶a̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶d̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶f̶l̶o̶o̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶i̶s̶h̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶o̶p̶e̶n̶ ̶u̶p̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶s̶w̶a̶l̶l̶o̶w̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶w̶h̶o̶l̶e̶.̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶g̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶a̶n̶ ̶o̶d̶d̶ ̶l̶o̶o̶k̶ ̶b̶e̶f̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶r̶a̶p̶p̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶a̶r̶m̶s̶ ̶a̶r̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶a̶ ̶f̶i̶r̶m̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶s̶o̶f̶t̶ ̶h̶u̶g̶.̶
With the petals, their coughing had gotten worse. So much so, that they had been opting out of most rounds. The other survivors unanimously decided that was for the better. Noob tried approaching them one time, asking if they needed any help or whether or not they were okay. They simply declined her offer politely, confirmed they were fine as long as the Spawn stayed with them and walked away, he didn't seem to question them all that much. Noob always hated confrontation. Someone had knocked on their door another time, they didn't answer and the person on the other side didn't push or even speak. They had silently appreciated that.
{ ꥟ }
Blood accompanied the petals this time, warm and wet. They weren't worried, the Spawn would heal them in due time. They'd wait, no matter how long it took. They knew eventually their constant faithfulness to the Spawn would pay off and they'd be cured. Though, they h̶o̶p̶e̶d̶ feared the Spawn would be too late. No. No. No. The Spawn was never tidy for anything, it was a perfect being after all. It was wasn't flawed like them. They just had to be patient, patience always paid off. At least, that was what Amarah told them.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶i̶n̶s̶i̶s̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶p̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶,̶ ̶n̶o̶ ̶m̶a̶t̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶A̶m̶a̶r̶a̶h̶ ̶a̶s̶s̶u̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶h̶i̶m̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶f̶u̶t̶i̶l̶e̶.̶
Their arms had been feeling stiff in odd ways lately, especially around their shoulders. They passed it off as lack of use, though it didn't sit right with them at all. Whatever, it was likely just punishment from the Spawn for daring to think of it as anything but the holy, perfect, godly being it was... Perhaps it was time they took the knife they nabbed from the kitchen out again. It would be quick, obviously. They couldn't risk the other survivors seeing anything. After all, the injuries they sustained in-between rounds seemed to require healing naturally instead of instantly like the ones they got during rounds.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶'̶v̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶d̶o̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶s̶e̶l̶f̶.̶
After that was done and dusted, they put some bandaids on and covered said bandaids with their arm warmers. They always hated the feeling of cuts against clothing, it felt as if every single stitch and piece of lint were trying to bury itself underneath their skin from the opening. Not to mention leaving their cuts bare was just straight up unsanitary, and infections were rather easy to get in this certain environment.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶m̶a̶d̶e̶ ̶s̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶l̶e̶a̶s̶t̶ ̶t̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶n̶d̶s̶,̶ ̶g̶o̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶i̶n̶f̶e̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶s̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶i̶n̶f̶i̶n̶i̶t̶e̶l̶y̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶s̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶n̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶c̶u̶t̶s̶ ̶i̶n̶f̶e̶c̶t̶e̶d̶.̶
{ ꥟ }
They weren't entirely sure, but what grew underneath their skin was likely vines considering all the other symptoms. Hanahaki, they had finally found the word for their illness. They couldn't quite remember the cure, but it didn't matter! The Spawn would heal them soon enough, right after they finally learned their lesson in its eyes they would be cured!... Though, in their own eyes, they had long past learnt their lesson. It didn't matter what they thought though, all that mattered was that the Spawn was finally pleased with them. After all, the only reason they were condemned to this hell was because they tried to give their gift of a second life to another. Guilt, regret, or even grief was not something those the Spawn favored felt. They needed to abandon all emotion, only then would their God be truly at ease. Pleasing the almighty Spawn was the purpose of their pitiful life after all!
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶l̶i̶f̶e̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶.̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶s̶a̶i̶d̶ ̶l̶i̶f̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶g̶i̶f̶t̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶S̶p̶a̶w̶n̶,̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶r̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶a̶w̶a̶y̶ ̶c̶a̶r̶e̶l̶e̶s̶s̶l̶y̶.̶
·
·
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They had been lacking A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ lately, he hadn't appeared at all. If they were being honest, they did miss him. They missed his presence, whether it be that of 'visions' or during rounds. They were never there during rounds he was killer, they couldn't tell if they felt relief at that or not... Did it matter though..? It didn't matter if they missed him, they didn't deserve his comforting presence. It didn't matter if they missed him, they were the reason the both of them were even here in the first place. It didn't matter if they missed him, he so obviously he hated them now, and for good reason too. It didn't matter if they missed him, he very clearly didn't miss them anyway. It didn't matter if they missed him, these feelings were just further punishment from the Spawn surely.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶'̶v̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶h̶o̶w̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶s̶ ̶a̶l̶i̶g̶n̶e̶d̶ ̶n̶o̶w̶a̶d̶a̶y̶s̶.̶
Their skin had been fading purple in certain parts now, and one of their eyes' vision seemed to be going out. They couldn't tell what was wrong with it, there were no mirrors in their cabin and they didn't dare step outside to the communal cabin. They were in terrible shape, and they didn't trust the other survivors not to try to speak to them about it. They couldn't even remember how hanahaki worked, let alone the cause or cure. All they remembered was was coughing up flowers, something about it being connected to feelings, and the fact it was myth. Perhaps they could carve themself open and remove the plant from it's very core, it's not like they'd die as long as they did it during a round... Or perhaps it'd be better if they did it in-between, they didn't want anyone finding them during the process after all. Surely that was their only reason! Surely....
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶f̶a̶n̶t̶a̶s̶i̶z̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶d̶y̶i̶n̶g̶,̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶f̶i̶g̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶w̶h̶y̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶y̶'̶d̶ ̶r̶e̶s̶p̶a̶w̶n̶ ̶a̶f̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶l̶l̶.̶.̶!̶
{ ꥟ }
They were coughing full-blown flower blooms now, and it was clear what the flowers were. They were nightshades. Eugh, the very sight of the flower made them feel like puking... Speaking of such, they had puked two whole nightshade flowers accompanied by far too much blood earlier. The illness was getting worse, they didn't know how much time the Spawn had to heal them before their body would be permanently damaged beyond repair. The Spawn had to heal them! They were so loyal, they had sacrificed their very life force for it! No. No. No. They had to be patient. The Spawn would heal them in due time. Once it did, they would feel so idiotic for ever doubting it. They would be idiotic obviously. How could they ever think like this? They'd need to do something to punish themself surely. How terrible they were for thinking like this!
"̶Y̶o̶u̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶p̶u̶n̶i̶s̶h̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶s̶e̶l̶f̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶t̶i̶m̶e̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶o̶u̶g̶h̶t̶s̶ ̶l̶e̶a̶d̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶p̶l̶a̶c̶e̶s̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶w̶i̶s̶h̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶t̶o̶.̶ ̶I̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶r̶ ̶f̶a̶u̶l̶t̶,̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶n̶i̶g̶h̶t̶s̶h̶a̶d̶e̶.̶.̶"̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶s̶a̶i̶d̶,̶ ̶c̶a̶r̶e̶f̶u̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶w̶r̶a̶p̶p̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶b̶r̶u̶t̶a̶l̶i̶z̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶r̶m̶s̶ ̶u̶p̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶s̶h̶i̶f̶t̶ ̶b̶a̶n̶d̶a̶g̶e̶s̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶a̶n̶s̶w̶e̶r̶,̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶f̶i̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶d̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶.̶
They tried slicing their skin, yet the only thing that happened when they did was a small bloom in replacement of blood. They tried far too hard for someone who promised they'd stop dozens of times. Though, their promises felt vain when they were only ever to one person, and that one person was the one person they murdered. They felt.. confused when a flower grew from their skin, testing it a few times before ultimately coming to the conclusion that yes, everytime they cut themself a flower would bloom in place. They ripped the nightshades out from their skin, and felt rather relieved when they bled instead of more flowers taking the previous ones places. So relieved that they didn't question the discolored liquid slipping down their arms in replacement of the red blood they knew. The flowers left behind light purple skin unfortunately, and they knew they'd be questioned eventually. However, they had caught a glimpse of how they looked in the reflection of their knife, and if the black, rotted skin where their left eye used to be wasn't something to question they didn't know what was. They were rather relieved no one had tried to speak to them about their deteriorating appearance though, as they didn't know how to answer any questions about it.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶w̶o̶r̶r̶i̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶,̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶t̶u̶r̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶f̶e̶l̶t̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶s̶i̶n̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶a̶n̶s̶w̶e̶r̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶q̶u̶e̶s̶t̶i̶o̶n̶s̶.̶
{ ꥟ }
Flowers bloomed from their skin without reason now, and it burned whenever they ripped them out. They didn't bleed anymore, at least, they didn't think the warm purple liquid running down their arm was blood... Blood was red, not purple. Though, not many things made sense in the realm they were forsaken to. 007n7 tried asking them about the flowers blooming from their skin one of the few rounds they were out and about, they didn't have a truthful answer. They told him they just assumed they were given by the Spectre, he seemed to have bought that answer as he simply nodded and walked off.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶k̶n̶e̶w̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶l̶y̶i̶n̶g̶,̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶n̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶s̶e̶l̶f̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶.̶
They didn't cough too often now, though it wasn't anything good that replaced it. Their throat felt like they had swallowed glass whenever they coughed, now they just threw up dismantled bouquets of flowers with purple liquid they weren't sure whether or not was their blood now. It would explain a few things if it were, but they weren't concerned about it truly. They were more concerned that the Spawn hadn't healed them yet. Why were they still so ill? Why was it only getting worse?? Why had the Spawn abandoned them??? Why????
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶a̶n̶s̶w̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶,̶ ̶o̶r̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶l̶e̶a̶s̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶s̶o̶m̶e̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶f̶o̶r̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶s̶a̶y̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶.̶
T̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶f̶a̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶w̶a̶v̶e̶r̶i̶n̶g̶.̶ ̶Y̶e̶t̶,̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶b̶r̶o̶k̶e̶n̶.̶
The Spawn was doing this on purpose, yes! The Spawn had finally seen them, truly seen them, and it was planning on taking them from this awful realm to roam with it! The Spawn had a plan, yes! The Spawn always had a plan! How foolish they were to doubt it, even for a second. If they could not cut themself for punishment, they would instead rip their hair out. How idiotic of them to ever think the Spawn had abandoned them! The Spawn would never!!!
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶s̶p̶i̶r̶a̶l̶e̶d̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶.̶
How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How idiotic. How utterly idiotic!!!!!
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶c̶a̶l̶l̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶s̶e̶l̶f̶ ̶i̶d̶i̶o̶t̶i̶c̶,̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶n̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶c̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶s̶u̶c̶h̶.̶
{ ꥟ }
Their legs gave out mid-chase last round, how embarrassing... Though, perhaps their illness in itself was even more embarrassing. It was effecting the other survivors, they couldn't keep doing this. They needed to deal with this. The 'vines' had reached down to their legs, they could feel the things growing underneath their skin. They hated that feeling. They couldn't even properly punish themself. They needed to discipline themself, Amarah always told them... What did Amarah always tell them? They couldn't remember. Perhaps this illness was effecting their memory as well, as they had never forgotten a thing Amarah told them repeatedly before. How could they? What Amarah said was what the high priests said, what the high priests said was what the Spawn itself said.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶b̶e̶l̶i̶e̶v̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶o̶l̶s̶ ̶t̶a̶l̶k̶,̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶n̶o̶ ̶m̶o̶r̶t̶a̶l̶ ̶b̶e̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶c̶o̶m̶m̶u̶n̶i̶c̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶S̶p̶a̶w̶n̶ ̶i̶t̶s̶e̶l̶f̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶e̶y̶e̶s̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶u̶r̶n̶ ̶o̶f̶f̶,̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶l̶o̶s̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶h̶e̶a̶r̶i̶n̶g̶,̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶i̶r̶ ̶v̶o̶c̶a̶l̶ ̶c̶o̶r̶d̶s̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶f̶r̶i̶e̶d̶ ̶b̶y̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶v̶e̶r̶y̶ ̶p̶r̶e̶s̶e̶n̶c̶e̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶s̶u̶c̶h̶ ̶a̶ ̶h̶o̶l̶y̶ ̶b̶e̶i̶n̶g̶.̶
Flowers bloomed from their skin everywhere now, they were now unable to pass these things off as unknown to even them. They had started just saying it was the Spectre messing with them, the other survivors seemed to accept that answer... Or at least they didn't truly wish to properly question it as they all seemed wary when even speaking to Two time, let alone pushing for an proper, truthful answer answer from them. Elliot tried once, just simply inquiring about their recent appearance during one of the few rounds they were out. They brushed him off with the wave of a hand and a simple, "The Spectre seems to be attempting to break me down further. No worries, as long the Spawn remains with me everything shall be perfectly alright!" He always looked uneasy when they mentioned the Spawn, as if he knew something they didn't. They never paid much mind to it in all honesty, all of the other survivors disliked the Spawn for whatever reason.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶k̶n̶e̶w̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶y̶ ̶p̶e̶o̶p̶l̶e̶ ̶g̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶l̶o̶o̶k̶s̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶r̶a̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶g̶o̶o̶d̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶d̶e̶f̶l̶e̶c̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶s̶e̶ ̶s̶t̶a̶r̶e̶s̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶o̶n̶e̶s̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶o̶w̶n̶.̶.̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶m̶e̶m̶b̶e̶r̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶f̶a̶c̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶o̶k̶e̶d̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶f̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶d̶i̶d̶ ̶s̶o̶.̶
{ ꥟ }
They remembered! They remembered what Hanahaki was, it's full symptoms, it's cause, and the cures!!!... However joyful that news sounded, the reality was anything but. They read about this disease in a book with A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ once, it was supposed to be fictional, a myth. Unfortunately for them, reality and fiction seemed to dance together in this hellish realm.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶'̶v̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶v̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶f̶a̶c̶t̶,̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶d̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶f̶a̶n̶t̶a̶s̶y̶ ̶b̶o̶o̶k̶s̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶d̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶b̶o̶o̶k̶s̶ ̶a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶p̶l̶a̶n̶t̶s̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶a̶t̶n̶o̶t̶.̶.̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶o̶n̶d̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶d̶ ̶t̶i̶m̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶p̶e̶r̶l̶y̶ ̶e̶n̶j̶o̶y̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶o̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶k̶i̶l̶l̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶r̶e̶s̶i̶d̶e̶d̶.̶
There were two cures for Hanahaki, at least that they could remember from the simple book A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ read with them. Either the plant was removed from their body surgically, which seemed near impossible in this realm... Or the cause became or was revealed to be untrue and quite the opposite. There was only one cause of Hanahaki, and it seemed rather fitting for their situation. Unrequited, or assumed to be such, intense feelings of love. If left untreated, Hanahaki would result in death. If treated surgically in later stages, the diseased would lose any all emotion. If treated naturally with the other openly reciprocating the feelings, the plant would be uprooted and leave the body within two-four hours, however unpleasant the exiting process may be. The flowers that would grow, originating in the lung, would be that of the loved ones favorite. It made sense, A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ always loved nightshades... Perhaps that was why the flower made them feel ill whenever they saw it lately.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶'̶v̶e̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶r̶y̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶p̶o̶w̶e̶r̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶h̶e̶a̶l̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶.̶.̶.̶ ̶H̶o̶w̶e̶v̶e̶r̶,̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶,̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶'̶v̶e̶ ̶n̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶c̶o̶n̶t̶r̶a̶c̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶s̶u̶c̶h̶ ̶a̶n̶ ̶i̶l̶l̶n̶e̶s̶s̶.̶
The more obvious symptoms included: Coughing up flowers/flower petals, paler skin/colored skin often matching with the color of whatever flower, vines growing underneath the skin everywhere possible, flowers somehow blooming and breaking free from the confines of the persons skin, and vines or tree wood (depending on how each flowers grows) emerging from the back. The more mild/less obvious symptoms included: Increased dizziness, significantly higher or significantly lower body temperature, frequent headaches and/or migraines, stiffness in certain body parts, and eventual increased vomiting (often including flowers but sometimes without). It could only have been Hanahaki, yet they couldn't quite understand why the Spawn would inflict them with such a painful illness for passing... Perhaps they needed to truly feel pain before they could ascend? Perhaps all the pain they felt before was not quite enough. Perhaps this was their final judgement! Yes, this was their final judgement, after this they would finally be freed!!!
T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶h̶o̶p̶e̶d̶ ̶A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶f̶r̶e̶e̶d̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶r̶o̶l̶e̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶k̶i̶l̶l̶e̶r̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶w̶e̶l̶l̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶k̶n̶e̶w̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶c̶a̶u̶s̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶r̶m̶.̶.̶.̶
{ ꥟ }
Judgement day, or at least that was what they assumed this was. They could go through with one last round, then they wouldn't return to the communal cabin. Then they'd be freed from this torment. Then they'd finally find whatever purpose their awful life held. Their chest now held a somehow gigantic nightshade blossom, and all they could do was lay there and hope the round would start quickly. After this, they'd become apart of the map, no longer a survivor to be tormented by everything that is.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶g̶l̶a̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶'̶d̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶e̶v̶e̶r̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶f̶r̶e̶e̶d̶ ̶f̶r̶o̶m̶ ̶s̶e̶e̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶k̶n̶e̶w̶ ̶i̶t̶.̶
— ꥟ —
They spawned in, their legs weak and wobbling from the sudden change of laying down to standing up. They almost fell over, but caught something to keep them upright. That something had to be, of course, another survivor. Guest 1337 to be exact, they took the hand that instinctively went to find something to keep them upright previously away as if they were burned. Guest didn't seem to mind being used to keep them upright, as he just gave them a worried look when they mumbled a quick apology. They hurried away after that, every part of their body screaming at them to stop walking and just lay down to die. They ignored the burning pain, finding a corner to the place their ritual. It was likely futile to place it, as they almost definitely weren't going to get oblation, yet they did so anyway and went to complete a generator. If they were going to never return, they could at least be useful during their last round.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶h̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶i̶n̶s̶i̶s̶t̶e̶d̶ ̶o̶n̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶p̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶r̶o̶u̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶c̶h̶u̶r̶c̶h̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶n̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶n̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶s̶i̶c̶k̶.̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶s̶a̶i̶d̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶b̶e̶t̶t̶e̶r̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶r̶e̶s̶t̶ ̶u̶p̶.̶ ̶T̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶ ̶f̶e̶l̶t̶ ̶t̶e̶r̶r̶i̶b̶l̶e̶ ̶l̶a̶y̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶d̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶i̶n̶ ̶b̶e̶d̶ ̶w̶h̶i̶l̶s̶t̶ ̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶c̶l̶e̶a̶n̶e̶d̶.̶
After a minutes, they completed the generator and went to find who the killer was. It'd be best if it were 1x1x1x1, she never hesitated to kill survivors who were being rather useless... Not only that, but she made it rather painless as well, when they didn't fight back that was. It'd be best, yet they had never seen any flash of neon green this round... Speaking of odd, was this a new map? How fitting it seemed. It was fogged, trees everywhere, and most of it seemed to be a burnt down village of sorts... It looked familiar, like deja vu. How odd, they had never seen a burnt down village before now, even before they were forsaken to this hellish realm.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶v̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶b̶u̶r̶n̶t̶ ̶d̶o̶w̶n̶ ̶v̶i̶l̶l̶a̶g̶e̶s̶,̶ ̶s̶a̶i̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶w̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶e̶r̶e̶s̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶e̶x̶p̶l̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶f̶i̶g̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶p̶e̶o̶p̶l̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶l̶i̶v̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶b̶e̶f̶o̶r̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶b̶u̶r̶n̶t̶ ̶d̶o̶w̶n̶.̶
They walked subconsciously, just looking around really. Eventually they ended up on top of a hill, nightshade flowers adorned it. Ah. So that was where they knew it from. It was where they had lived before... Oh Spawn, they hoped this was only what the Spectre made of it for it's amusement and not what truly happened some time after they were forsaken. In the middle of the patch of flowers, laid a simple dagger etched into the ground with flowers growing on it. They approached the dagger, and sure enough, it was their own. They pulled out the dagger from their belt, and laid it down next to the other one. They sat down next to them daggers, just waiting for the killer to find and free them.
A̶z̶u̶r̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶v̶e̶d̶ ̶q̶u̶i̶e̶t̶ ̶m̶o̶m̶e̶n̶t̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶,̶ ̶w̶h̶e̶r̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶y̶ ̶o̶n̶l̶y̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶ ̶h̶e̶a̶r̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶w̶i̶n̶d̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶f̶a̶i̶n̶t̶ ̶c̶h̶a̶t̶t̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶o̶t̶h̶e̶r̶ ̶p̶e̶o̶p̶l̶e̶.̶
After quite awhile, another person climbed the hill and sat down next to them, opposite side of the daggers. They could see him out of the corner of their eye, and by Spawn they hoped he'd just killed them now. It was Azure, he was killer this round apparently. However, he'd been doing a quite shitty job of it as no one had even been hurt. Perhaps he was hunting them down, though if he were, he wouldn't have just sat down near them... Perhaps he knew it was the last time they'd be appearing. Permanently.
The nice and quiet silence was only broken by a rather mouthy hat on top of Azures head, that they had learnt long ago was stuck there like glue. He grumbled and they saw him wack the thing with one of his tentacles, which made the hat yell once more before finally shutting up. They wondered if he wanted them to say something... Or perhaps they needn't not say anything first, as he unzipped his mouth with a wince. They knew that was possible of course, 1x1x1x1 had done the very same long ago solely to curse out Shedletsky for stunning her.
"I... I assume this is the last time I'm seeing you, 'Times.." He muttered, his voice much more gruff then they remembered. Then again, they couldn't remember much. They nodded, and he clearly knew what was wrong. He read the book too after all, and it wasn't like it took a genius to figure out what was wrong with them. They figured they'd apologize one last time, it was only the courteous thing to do after all.
"I'm sorry it turned out like this, Azure. I truly am. I.. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but if I had known it would end like this.. I don't think I would've ever even accepted the dagger."
"I know, and I don't forgive you. But.. I do wish we could've ended up differently. It's not like I enjoy murdering you and your friends repeatedly.." That came as a small shock to them, but only small. They knew he never enjoyed hurting others, even on accident.
"... Perhaps, after this, you'll be freed as well." They offered gently, their voice somehow smaller then they meant it to be. Azure replied simply. "Perhaps." Was all he said, it was all that needed to be said. There was about thirty to fourty minutes left on the clock. Each round lasted an hour, and there was an hour between each round. Though, time didn't seem to mean much here.
They wanted desperately to hug him, or do anything similar, but what separated them stayed the same. The daggers. The dagger that killed him, and the dagger they carried all this time after. Instead of giving in and possibly making him uncomfortable, they took the picture they kept strapped to their belt off. They held it for a long moment, before silently offering it to Azure. Perhaps he'd want it, perhaps he wouldn't. Perhaps he'd be glad they'd finally be gone, perhaps he'd be disappointed. Whatever the answer was, they didn't need the photo anymore. It was a photo the two of them took before being forsaken, hell, it was before Two time was even given the dagger and instructions to sacrifice Azure.
He took the photo gently, and they smiled softly at him before looking back at the flowers below. He held the picture for a long moment as well, before tucking it into the cloak-like thing he had on.
They sat like that for awhile, in a sort of bittersweet silence. Azure didn't... He didn't quite want them to go. Not yet. But, he wouldn't keep them here, he wouldn't keep them in the hell this is. No, he'd have to hate them to make them stay, and he could never truly hate them. He could've though, could've said three words and they would've been cured, yet they would've just suffered more if he did... He may not forgive them, but he still loved them. To love someone, is to know when to let them go.
After another long moment, his hand found their hand, and he held it. They didn't move, they didn't say anything, they just sat there quietly. Their health slowly chipped away, yet it had both nothing and everything to do with him.
Twenty minutes.
They wanted to lay down, but they didn't want to let go of his hand. Then again, perhaps they couldn't stay sitting up. Whatever, they didn't want to possibly stain the moment. They watched as below various survivors passed by the hill, yet none of them dared climb up. They were thankful for that... Perhaps none of them knew they wouldn't be respawning with the rest of them in the communal cabin, or perhaps they did and were just letting them settle in their last moments... Or perhaps, none of them cared. Whatever, it didn't matter now, did it?
Fifteen minutes.
Azure watched the timer tick down, and watched as Two time slowly slipped in and out of whatever consciousness was left. Eventually, they just fell and laid down, he followed them down.
Ten minutes.
The two of them laid there, and words didn't feel quite enough to convey what was happening in the moment. They both knew one of them was going to die, permanently this time, and they both knew it was better this way. Azure didn't want them to suffer, Two time had been awaiting this moment even before they had been forsaken.
Five minutes.
Azure shifted, and used his weird tentacle-like vines to move Two time closer. They didn't fight back, didn't move, just let themself be wrapped up by his arms. They'd be happy if this was how they were going to go, held by someone who didn't quite love them, to their knowledge, but didn't quite hate them either. It was a rather pleasant way to go, ignoring the burning and incredible pain they felt.
Ten..
"I love you, Azure... I'm sorry."
Nine...
"... I'll miss you."
Eight...
"Don't, please."
Seven...
"Why?"
Six...
"Never miss someone who hurt you like I did."
Five...
"... I'll try, my nightshade."
Four...
"Thank you."
Three...
"For what?"
Two...
"For being here, even though you didn't have to."
One...
"I did, in my eyes at least."
[ The survivors won. ]