Red dyed the skies.
Crimson dome, crimson thunderbolts, crimson cracks. This ominous hue shaded the whole land. The whole world. His whole world. The body lying still in his hands, all crimson.
"....."
Despite the hot, trickling blood, the boy's body was frozen cold. No pulse, no breath, no energy. Dead.
It didn't take much for Roy to understand the situation. He wasn't surprised, and neither was he in denial. He'd already witnessed too many ends and experienced many more losses for him to lose rationality over a young boy's passing.
He was accustomed to death.
Even so... What was this itchy feeling in his chest?
"Fool..."
No response, no retort. It was as quiet as the void.
The redhead's lips quivered as he voiced his words in low whispers.
"Didn't you want to travel the land? What about the orphanages you talked about?"
