It may have been three days he spent in the base and the site of a gruesome battle. Three days flew by his eyes before he could notice. Three long days where he paid homage to those who departed in bloodshed.
Three long days burying them all and praying for their souls. It was the least they could do for those who fought so bravely for the sake of others and their survival.
'I hope my prayers can help them proceed without regrets or unfinished business.' Kyrie was no priest; every time he prayed for other souls in this apocalypse, he felt uneasy. Not because of a whiplash of his powers or anything like that.
He never felt it was right for him, someone who had a shaky faith and knew nothing about the world, to pray for people's souls. It was a job for those of strong faith and spirit, chosen and guided by the lord.
