[scien falls to his knees, and fragments of memory cut into his sanity.
to the last man who'd defeated him, scien had dared him to end it. goaded him on. it didn't matter when everything he'd worked on was already falling—when his family was already dead and gone long before they could revive. what is just one more person's rage to fall upon scien as the target?
he spits out blood, derisive. to so many, he would encourage them to assign him the sole source of their problems. here, he is the one getting in between dion and escape. if scien were to die, then dion could live. something in his brain tells him that's wrong, that there's something fundamentally incorrect about that plan, but he can't quite place what it is. from whose hand is salvation delivered?
whose hand?
a twist of his wrist is all it takes, splashing the last contents of the gasoline on himself instead. it stings against the blood, the open wounds, the phantom torture that wreaks havoc against his body.]
I will not become another burden for you to carry.
[not another life on dion's long, long list of regrets. if there is something insane and absurd to be done, scien will do it himself. his fingers find the singular match he'd dropped early on, striking it against stone before setting himself aflame.
hadn't he made a promise? regardless of what you ask of me, i would always choose to save you.
but there is something so spiteful in these memories that linger—so he also flicks the same match right back over in dion's direction. justvirchethings: burning in hades together.]
[ His apologies, as ever, mean little in the face of what he's done. No amount of guilt or regret could ever bring back the lives he's taken, the homes he's destroyed, and the people he's betrayed. And neither should it. He doesn't deserve- he doesn't deserve—
He had said that he would no longer seek death. That he had made memories and bonds so precious that he wouldn't let them perish with him in Origin. It was impossible to imagine waking up after that final battle, and facing another day among the ruins of his country. It was impossible to imagine taking another breath with all the grief in his heart.
He had said that he would try to live.
—But at what cost?
The words barely register before Scien goes up in flames, and for one, terrible moment, he is the Royal Guard desperate to live, and he is elated that he's won.
Just a moment, and then horror fills every part of him. He's frozen, terrified to move lest the sight of the flames become real. ]
You would never—
[ you could never be a burden. you could never be a burden.
Don't show consideration for him. He doesn't want mercy because of all the mistakes that he's made.
The flames are hot before the fire even reaches him, the smell of burnt cloth and flesh, charring and painful where it sears through him. But still his skin is cool against the fire where tears track down his face—one last kindness.
He wishes that the fire could swallow him whole. Burn out his eyes to spare him the sight of Scien falling to pieces in the flames, but they don't get the chance before the cloaked figures arrive, and he's taken from the cell, victorious. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
to the last man who'd defeated him, scien had dared him to end it. goaded him on. it didn't matter when everything he'd worked on was already falling—when his family was already dead and gone long before they could revive. what is just one more person's rage to fall upon scien as the target?
he spits out blood, derisive. to so many, he would encourage them to assign him the sole source of their problems. here, he is the one getting in between dion and escape. if scien were to die, then dion could live. something in his brain tells him that's wrong, that there's something fundamentally incorrect about that plan, but he can't quite place what it is. from whose hand is salvation delivered?
whose hand?
a twist of his wrist is all it takes, splashing the last contents of the gasoline on himself instead. it stings against the blood, the open wounds, the phantom torture that wreaks havoc against his body.]
I will not become another burden for you to carry.
[not another life on dion's long, long list of regrets. if there is something insane and absurd to be done, scien will do it himself. his fingers find the singular match he'd dropped early on, striking it against stone before setting himself aflame.
hadn't he made a promise? regardless of what you ask of me, i would always choose to save you.
but there is something so spiteful in these memories that linger—so he also flicks the same match right back over in dion's direction. justvirchethings: burning in hades together.]
no subject
He had said that he would no longer seek death. That he had made memories and bonds so precious that he wouldn't let them perish with him in Origin. It was impossible to imagine waking up after that final battle, and facing another day among the ruins of his country. It was impossible to imagine taking another breath with all the grief in his heart.
He had said that he would try to live.
—But at what cost?
The words barely register before Scien goes up in flames, and for one, terrible moment, he is the Royal Guard desperate to live, and he is elated that he's won.
Just a moment, and then horror fills every part of him. He's frozen, terrified to move lest the sight of the flames become real. ]
You would never—
[ you could never be a burden. you could never be a burden.
Don't show consideration for him. He doesn't want mercy because of all the mistakes that he's made.
The flames are hot before the fire even reaches him, the smell of burnt cloth and flesh, charring and painful where it sears through him. But still his skin is cool against the fire where tears track down his face—one last kindness.
He wishes that the fire could swallow him whole. Burn out his eyes to spare him the sight of Scien falling to pieces in the flames, but they don't get the chance before the cloaked figures arrive, and he's taken from the cell, victorious. ]