The revelation that all of Ackster's hard work, worries, fears, paranoia, and anxiety had been for nothing hit him like a truck. His hard work hadn't been for nothing, and neither had his fears since they had spurred him to go to the lengths he needed. And, in the end, he saved the world.
It hadn't been for nothing. It hadn't!
But it felt like it had.
Ackster felt horrible. He couldn't describe how he felt. He could barely even feel how he felt.
But the revelation of all those years being a fake and that he merely stayed alive at the whim of The Hero felt worse than even the pain of his soul tearing and fragmenting. Ackster wanted to tear his jaw off in frustration and to feel something else.
Storm clouds obscured the lingering rays of the setting sun and the stars creeping into the sky under the dusk's cover. The air itself grew dark as thunder rumbled in the sky.
