It was no longer a matter of "could", "should" or "maybe". It was undoubtedly, painstakingly clear that we would not make it this time.

I looked over at Matt, hunched over one of the many laptops we had set up for spying, smoking. As I watched the light swirls of cigarette smoke, riddled with muddled emotions and missing pieces, drift towards the already-stained ceiling, a knot formed in my stomach. That will be one of his last.

I felt my breath hitch as memories of our days as Wammy's flooded back to me. It seemed like only yesterday; the days had gone by so quickly. I felt a slight comfort and a pang of remorse, knowing that we had once been young, innocent even (aside from our childish mischief, of course). The change had been so sudden. It was as if we had found Pandora's Box one day while playing and opened it, releasing evils into the world—and our hearts.

There was no more "tomorrow", "future" or "after". Most importantly, there was no more time.

Now.

There was only "now" left.

Matt, finished his cigarette, glanced in my direction, and for a moment, I thought I saw a fleeting look of sadness pass his goggled eyes.

Each tick of the exhausted clock resounded in my head with a sickening crack.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Time. There was no time left.