"Did you have to?"
Alice's question echoed through the air as she leaned on the wall near Relafan. In the depths of Polaris, she had found her blonde-haired friend sitting alone. It was a place no one else seemed to go near.
"You were handling it well," Alice said, but Relafan did not turn to face her. He kept staring ahead without a word, his arms crossed, his lips shut tight.
The eyes of the man who had always been cheery were stern today. Even as he handled the unending assault of Vincent, quite literally the anti-thesis of his existence, Relafan had never made such an expression.
In the short time she had known him, she thought of them both to be people to not let their emotions sway their psyche.
It wouldn't be possible to enjoy oneself so much in the apocalypse.
Alice had only seen suffering. She had hoped that she could hide out long enough for the demolition to take her along, as far-fetched as that dream was.
