Honestly, Regulus was a little glad. Content even.
He had been struggling for so long, running for so long.
Maybe it was for the best, that he’ll finally get to et his friends in the afterlife.
He closed his eyes, loosening the grip on glaive as he waited for the sweet embrace of death. For the damned thing to co and claim its prize that it had so painstakingly earned.
It never ca.
No impact.
No tearing of flesh.
No crushing weight dragging him under.
Nothing.
Regulus frowned.
A second passed.
Then another.
He hesitated to open his eyes, because the relentless sound of the mass of flesh that had chased him for what felt like an eternity was...
Gone.
Completely.
Like it had never even existed in the first place.
Then he realized.
"Ah.."
It was playing with him.
He had missed it initially, but when he focused, he could feel it. That faint pressure it exerted on the air, that malice that dripped out of the abomination into the world.
The whisper ca again, slow and clear.
Live.
He tried to tighten his grip on the glaive, only for his hand to end up failing him. The weapon clattered useless against the ground, and he finally felt the mass move again, the wet squelch returning to his ears as it shot forward.
LIVE.
His body moved on its own, grabbing the glaive on the floor for one last, final encounter.
All that was left of his mana, his will, his existence moved through the weapon into a sharp point, darkness coating the blade as it rushed to et the adversary coming at him.
LIVE.
Sothing struck.
His eyes tore open, light flooding his vision for a mont.
It was not his blade, it was still untouched.
A violent force tore through the space behind him, a gust of air following the displacent. The sound that followed was akin to a nuclear explosion, the mass of flesh bursting into a spray of mist from the sheer force of impact.
Regulus turned.
And saw it, him.
For a mont, his mind failed to process it.
Silver hair.
That was the first thing he noticed.
It fell in soft, weightless strands, catching what little light remained as it shifted—too smooth, too untouched by everything around it. Like it didn’t belong to this place, no, it belonged to sowhere else. In a palace, maybe.
Then His gaze drifted lower, to the face,
And stilled.
Delicate.
That was the only word that ca to mind.
Sharp lines softened by sothing almost gentle, features balanced in a way that made it difficult to place. Masculine, perhaps—but only barely. There was an androgynous quality to it that refused to settle into anything certain. A beauty out of the confines of this world, too vast to be limited by mortal shackles.
Then there was the Calmness.
Serenity.
That was what stood out the most.
In a place like this—
After sothing like that.
There was no tension in his expression.
No strain.
Just a quiet, unbothered stillness.
His eyes shifted slightly, landing on Regulus.
And for the first ti in forever, Regulus felt his thoughts stutter, the battle clarity he had been maintaining for months failing him.
The clothes didn’t match, that was what ca to him next.
An oversized shirt, loose at the shoulders, sleeves falling just a little too far down his arms. Pants just as relaxed, ill-fitted in a way that looked almost careless. He almost looked... cute.
Not armor.
Not prepared.
Wrong.
Everything about him was...
Wrong.
Regulus blinked.
His heart felt like it had skipped a beat, he couldn’t bee too sure.
Nothing really made sense.
Nothing... made... sense.
Then the darkness took him.
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