THE VOID OPENED UP TO WELCOME THEM LIKE AN EMBRACE.
Mori landed on his back with a groan. The Artificer's figure piled in after, hitting the ground like water.
Mori's finger slipped behind him to wind the timepiece.
"Very well, you have your wish," The Artificer sneered. "I can wait another week. In the meantime, what should I do with you...?"
Mori felt the shadows creeping up over him, once again immobilising his body. Mori prayed the timepiece would work for him. He tested it out, thinking about moving his arm. To his surprise, his arm lifted into the air. It wasn't as instinctive as a normal arm motion — it felt almost as if he had grabbed his hand and moved it exactly how he wanted.
Mori focused the energy inwards. He felt his blood rushing through his veins, the squeeze of his heart. And deeper, far beyond all that, his subconscious grazed the brilliant white ball he'd seen in the Artificer's hands.
Its energy warmed his mind. He drew it out of his body, his subconscious straining against the dark energy that bound it, until it hovered in front of his chest.
The Artificer turned, and its eyes sharpened to daggers. "How—"
Mori's mind reached for the tendrils of shadow, burrowing into the pleoma. He gave it an experimental tug and pain lashed across his vision. He let go with a gasp.
Mori sucked in a breath. He knew now that this was going to hurt, that the Artificer's promise of suffering was not made in vain.
For a moment, he hesitated. Is it worth it? Going out like this?
But what else was there to look forward to. The Artificer planned to torture him anyway. At least this pain — he hoped — had a purpose.
The world's going to end anyway. Better one person suffered for it than the entire world. And after all that pain, either way, all that awaited him was the gentle embrace of nothingness.
It seemed too good to be true. His body yearned for rest.
Soon, he muttered to himself.
He focused his energy inward once again and pulled.
No! As if sensing his intention, the Artificer flung itself forward, grabbing at the pleoma. Mori contorted his body to hold it off, but the pain of his limbs twisting was nothing compared to ripping out the shadow from his soul. It tore daggers into his body rending his spirit apart piece by piece. But ever so gradually, the darkness loosened its hold on the ball of light within him—
He didn't hear the Artificer's howl, only saw its mouth open in a soundless cry of fury. Blood dripped from its claw-like fingers. His blood, he realised dimly. Light splintered until it engulfed the Artificer's figure entirely, and suddenly, he was free.
He dropped to the ground, the light of his untainted pleoma swirling above him. Everything hit him at once — the pain in his broken, bloodied limbs. His lungs, sandpaper dry from screaming. Tears wet his face and his body trembled. And a fire burned in his chest, hot and bright and never ending. It tore open the sky, and suddenly he could hear that music again, see the lights dancing before his eyes.
I'm dying, he thought, as his body grew weightless. The light rose up in his vision to envelop him, smothering his body in its warmth. Mori closed his eyes, a thin smile fluttering over his face.
Finally, it's over.
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