A great shadow has fallen over the world. So large, so dark, you can barely see the wisps of pixelated blood as she disappears forever. It cloaks the spot where she was lying moments before, erasing her memory forever and forcing you to your knees. 'It's over,' you think. There isn't any reason to go on if she isn't there. It removes your purpose from you, dragging along with it on fleshy tendrils of pain and despair, your will to live.
But still, you stand up. Why do you stand up again? You don't know. Its not like this damn game was still worth playing. It has taken everything from you. Nothing left to give, and yet this...mind keeps on pressuring and extorting anything it can, until you are left a broken husk. Your blades are useless as the power of Cardinal tears you apart, leaving you a shadow of who you once were two years ago. When you had a life that wasn't about clearing the next floor or getting more XP or whatever else this stagnant program can throw at you.
You strike once, the blow performed like swatting a fly. Without any care or effort, you casually swing towards him. Of course, as with all the other times, he raises that damnable shield of his and blocks it. His block is much like your swing, without care or effort, because Akihiko Kayaba knows that he has already won. He can see in the reflection of your eyes that your spirit is broken, and you squint, as a tear runs down your face. This betrayal sickens you, disgusts you that he can read you so easily, Like he is some sort of God that can see what you're thinking.
'In here, he is the God,' you think.
This pathetic little dance you play with him is drawing to a close. You can feel him growing tired of this game. This sport of uncaring, sloppy slashes and parries. It bores the great, the wise, the all-knowing Kayaba. You begin to feel weary of this as well. Must he continue to draw this out so? Every second spent was another chance to have something ripped from you, if there was anything left.
Then, at long last, the stalemate breaks.
The armored Kayaba runs you through with his sword in the blink of an eye, the great blade entering your chest and exiting your back in a spray of pixelated blood and black cloth. And in a blast of glowing, blue glass flying through the air and yellow, molten heat surging in your head...
You, Kazuto Kirigaya, see nothing but black.
