Genesis stumbled into the bathroom, empty bottles crunching into glass shards under his feet. It was time. Wrenching open the medicine cabinet, he pulled out a red stained cloth, and almost reverently opened it. The blood-stained metal gleamed a sickening auburn in the dim lighting, and a twisted smirk fell upon his lips. Dropping the cloth, he fell against the wall, only to slide down it. He wrenched his coat sleeve out of the way, and pressed the blade to his wrist.
"Dreams of the morrow….hath the shattered soul," he spoke, dragging the blade across his wrist in lines of shining crimson, "Pride…is lost, wings stripped away the end is nigh." His hand began to shake as the red formed a puddle, but he refused to stop, until his arm was soaked in red. Drawing a shuddering breath, he let out a laugh, the sound twisted and foul. If they could only see me now…. He continued laughing, his breath ragged, until the razor fell from his slack grip, and his sight began to blacken. "Angeal…I'm coming home." With those last whispered words, Genesis Rhapsodos, SOLDIER First Class, slipped into the blissful calm of death.