Dorian gave no response to Hadama’s reasoning—no judgement, no commentary. If sentimentality offended him, he did not show it. If he understood it, he did not say. His features remained composed, controlled, not quite blank but impossible to read, the surface of a pool so still it gave no hint of the darkness beneath.
"Two days," he repeated softly, the words crisp and surgical, as if etched into glass. Then, a small nod. Not deferential. Not gracious. Simply confirmation. That was all.
"I’ll return here."
He did not step closer. He did not offer parting pleasantries or threats. He only moved back, polished boots pressing into the sand until they left no mark at all. Then—like smoke curling from a candle’s last breath—void-black mist began to coil up around his form, streaked faintly with deep violet, too dark to be twilight and too quiet to be storm.
It folded around him like a cloak, and then collapsed inward—
—gone.
~FIN
"Two days," he repeated softly, the words crisp and surgical, as if etched into glass. Then, a small nod. Not deferential. Not gracious. Simply confirmation. That was all.
"I’ll return here."
He did not step closer. He did not offer parting pleasantries or threats. He only moved back, polished boots pressing into the sand until they left no mark at all. Then—like smoke curling from a candle’s last breath—void-black mist began to coil up around his form, streaked faintly with deep violet, too dark to be twilight and too quiet to be storm.
It folded around him like a cloak, and then collapsed inward—
—gone.
~FIN
He'll rekindle all the dreams
it took you a lifetime to destroy
it took you a lifetime to destroy
