Act 0 / Part 2

Fallen

Another grain falls down to the bottom half.
We’re more than halfway through now, aren’t we?

What used to be Syro is bleeding out. 432 thinks that it is dead, but it isn’t. Not yet.
Not-Syro has a few hours left. It knows this. Δ knows this. The only person who doesn’t really know this is 432 himself, and in the end it doesn’t affect him any longer. He did what he thought was right for him. He rejected help. He doesn’t want to improve. He wants to die. He wants everything to die.
Not-Syro is unsure if this can be changed.

But it isn’t giving up.
It still has time.
Its one job is to try and help 432.
It has nothing else to do.
It is stuck there, in the back of his head, bleeding. Fading. Dying. So what else can it do to spend its time? Might as well try.

“YOU DON’T WANT THIS.”

“Oh my god, how are you not dead yet? There is a hole in my head. What use is it to you to continue trying to ‘help’ me? What do you think you’ll achieve? It’s not like you have much time left, so why are you using it on this?”

Well, alright, he does know, apparently.
Not-Syro repeats itself.

“THIS ISN’T WHAT’S BEST FOR YOU. YOU KNOW THAT. YOU DON’T WANT THIS.”

“Well, I didn’t, but now that you’re slipping from reality, I should be just fine.”

He’s a lost cause.

Apheon was only just stumbling upon the remains of XY when her guide squealed with pain. Not its own pain, but another’s.

432 didn’t accept. Checks out. He’s stubborn. Doesn’t want to change.
Too bad. He’s not getting a choice.
The world is already broken enough as it is. We don’t need him breaking it more.

“Nova, where are they?”
“somewhere near :015”
“Near… what?”
“the uhh
uhhhhhh
that uhmm uhhh
“the terminal! the terminal. the one that started this shit in the first place. the terminal.”
“Ah, right. The machine. That’s near the river, yes?”
“yup, zeola
northeast from here”
“Alright, I’ll take your word for it.”

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU’RE DOING. THE UNIVERSE WILL DIE. EVERYTHING YOU WORKED FOR WILL DIE. YOU DON’T WANT–”
“Jesus, Syro, don’t you get it? That’s exactly what I want. To be forgotten. For all of this to just… go away. I don’t need this. We don’t need this. There isn’t any point. I’ve seen literally no one around since I got back, they’ve all fucked off to… wherever. Maybe the Fifth. Maybe even the Second! Good for them! I don’t care. They can enjoy their days, but this world is dying, and I honestly think it’s better to just get this over with than stretch it out. No point in praying to a god that won’t answer.”

“…”

“YOU’RE WRONG.”

“I won’t stop you from believing that.”

It was at this point that Apheon noticed a building in the distance, standing right in the middle of the desert. It did not look like the other buildings she had seen around #.
Despite this Realm’s abandonment, most of the buildings still had… personality. This building, in the middle of a desolate nothing? It was, essentially, a block of concrete, with holes carved into it, pretending to be windows and doors. It matched the location.

It was a convenience store. In a very inconvenient location. Who in their right mind would embark on a journey to an unpolished rock in the middle of nowhere to get… groceries?
Well, of course, the one other living person in this Realm was the exact opposite of ‘in their right mind.’

Rethinking it, a place such as this would be perfect to hide from, say, an intellectually superior being from a higher Realm.
Such as, for example, Apheon.

“yeah this is pretty damn close to where it happened”
“Just how close? A mile? More? Less? Be specific, Nova. We have a job to do. How close did it occur?”
“oh
well
take a look for yourself
i guess”

Apheon, for a few seconds, was confused, before eventually noticing that only a few feet away from them was a pool of dark blood. It was not red. Apheon did not know how to describe the colour, but if it was anything, it was not red.

Something is wrong.

As 432 is walking back to the store, he feels something is off. Both in terms of atmosphere and in terms of physical condition.
The physical part is a very noticeable discomfort in the back of his head, near where he made the incision.
It is not pain. It is discomfort. It feels wrong. You’d think that this would be normal, due to the presence of a… hole. However, this is something different. What used to be Syro is feeling something, and as such, 432 is feeling it too.

And upon spotting a tall, humanoid figure emitting a faint golden glow, standing near the place he’s made his home, 432 knows exactly what he is feeling.

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