"What do you mean?" Cyrus asked, breath hitching. He scrubbed at his eyes, the tip of his nose red like his hair—or blood.
"I—" Auren gritted his teeth, then met each of their eyes, ending on hers. "Lucien spoke the truth," he enunciated.
Vesperin swallowed, whispering, "The world?"
Auren did not nod, but his eyes—they were so unyielding.
Another violent tremor rocked through the ruined house. Other dilapidated houses collapsed, one after the other. The sound rushed over them all as heat swelled in blistering waves.
The broken foundation of the house groaned, dust falling anew. She gave a hitched gasp, gripping Lucien’s chest so firmly that her nails dug in. He didn’t groan in pain because he was?—
"Vesperin, we have to go," Rhyden roared.
And time felt strange, like she’d just lost some of it. Whatever bits she’d had left evaporated in grief.
The air was hot and thick, and she heard the distant screeches of Rogues, their heavy, retreating footfalls. With their predatory instincts, they knew when it was time to go.
Rhyden was tugging her upright. "Now!"
She wouldn’t go. She stayed rooted to her spot because if the sky fell, what use was crying? If the end was near, why should they try to get away?
"No," Vesperin said, the words scraping against her raw throat. She looked up at them. Cyrus was still kneeling by her side. Kit was frozen, staring at Lucien. Auren… he stared at the sky, scythe discarded, useless. "I will not—leave him."
She saw no way to escape this. It was imminent—death. It was the one thing there was no escaping from.
Rhyden’s lip curled as he took them all in. Their defeat was a palpable thing. He cursed, then smiled bitterly, running his hand over his jaw. "Right. Fuck, okay." He dropped down, sitting beside her. Stared at the gun he still held, then tossed it away where it hit bricks with a clatter. "I guess we’re going to fucking die then," he groaned out, the words tapering off when a loud preternatural groan filled the air, as if Earth was mourning itself and all the Souls trapped on it.
Salty sweat slicked her skin, making the blood that now ran freely from her nose burn her upper lip and tender flesh.
"At least we’re together," Cyrus choked out, and she felt his arms wrap around her tightly.
The sparks on Kit’s arm traveled up to his chest. His head kept jerking strangely.
"Kit?" Vesperin prodded, just wanting it to be over. When he looked at her silently, she added, "I’m sorry."
His throat bobbed hard. Devastation hollowed out his face. Broken beyond repair.
She didn’t realize how desperate she’d been to see emotion on his face. Now that she saw it, she wanted his coldness again.
It did not matter.
She returned to lying atop Lucien’s chest, not wanting to leave him—and she didn’t have the strength left to stay upright. She was so tired.
"I don’t want to fight anymore," she whispered, her cheek against Lucien’s chest, her lips hot on his flesh. Tears fell, wetting him. She rubbed at them. "I’m sorry. I’m sorry."
Cyrus still held her from the side, then Rhyden’s cool hand joined, touching her ankles.
Auren covered her back, falling against her as though he had given up, too. "You do not have to. It is okay to give up. Just this once."
Nothing felt real. "Just this once?" she echoed.
She felt Auren nod from how closely he was pressed against her. Her hand stretched out, fingers shaking. Kit stared at her outstretched hand, then with his left, he reached for it, hisrealfingers brushing hers. No longer holding his ribs, blood gushed from the deep wound on his side. It didn’t matter.
Vesperin turned her head softly as best as she could, feeling too much, yet too little. Blue light raced inside her veins, making her skin glow from within. She took care to meet each of their eyes. As she did so, she remembered everything, and she knew…
"This is not the end," she told them quietly.
She touched her heart, felt its slow, sluggish beats. Even if Earth were not going to die here, she would. Time slipped through her fingertips, dwindling in the numbered beats of her heart. She gasped at the squeeze in her chest. Her eyes grew unfocused. She felt a small, soft smile touch her lips as she stared up at the half-collapsed roof of her childhood room. So many nights spent here, staring at the ceiling, dreaming. Now, it was the place her eyes would see last. Beyond the broken roof, she saw the shooting Stars, fiery and angry. She drew in a quiet, labored breath and felt Lucien’s still chest beneath her palm.
