Okay, so... that I started to write this was pretty random. I just suddenly really felt like writing something angsty and this idea came up and I started. After I started I just couldn't stop until the end of this chapter. Because it's so random it probably won't ever get another chapter, but I guess it doesn't really need one either, but who knows: as random as I started this, I might start the second chapter too, right?

This was also my first time writing from Timothy's pov and that was actually a lot of fun. I'm not used to Link's pov either, so it was kind of a challenge. I tried to keep everyone as in character as possible, but well, I don't know Neah enough to use his personality properly and I have a hard time understanding Sokaro too, so the short part in which he appears I just kind of did what I thought was right, but I hope it indeed is.

Btw this is an au in which Link was never (almost) killed by apocryphos and stayed at The Order instead

Anyway, have fun reading it and please leave a review about what you think of it.

Allen had lost. He had thought Neah had been his biggest threat. After that Apocryphos, the clan of Noah and The Order. But never had he realized what was actually within him. He had known nothing. Only fought Neah and his memories. And all the while he hadn't been aware that the changes in his body and mind weren't all that man's doing. The actual fourteenth had never been what he had imagined.

Neah had just been a host like him. A human mind implanted within his body. But that presence had woken up something else inside of him: the actual fourteenth Noah, embedded in his genes and stirred awake by its former host. So even though he was still in charge of his own body and fighting to keep his own personality, he had ended up on the losing side. His skin was scorched to a dark color, his eyes dyed golden and his forehead now displayed scars that disgusted him the most of all the ones he had on his body.

No, that wasn't entirely true. The scar he probably hated even more was the stump that had once been his left arm. His innocence, his most trusted weapon, the representive of all that had been important for him – saving akuma and protecting humans – was now gone. Ironically enough destroyed by himself. He hadn't realized the dark powers awakening inside of him had been that powerful. And now it was all too late. He wasn't only a Noah, he wasn't an exorcist anymore either. He had lost almost all that was important.

Luck hated him, Allen thought bitterly, staring at the hard floor with glassy eyes. As if all of it wasn't enough yet The Order had found him. His powers weren't stable yet and wouldn't defend him against the crows. They hadn't hesitated. His still incomplete powers were sealed and he was thrown in prison.

The first time they had a reason to keep him. They wanted him to tell them where Kanda and Alma were and he was important: he was an accommodator. He was a precious exorcist they couldn't afford to just lose.

But now, with the samurai back and his own innocence destroyed there was no reason for them to keep him anymore. He knew what would happen to him and so did every other person at The Order.

Even Neah was mad at him for getting captured. The body he had been trying to take over would be gone and useless to both of them. Once in a while the man would whisper in his mind with ill words. Telling him this was all his fault. He shouldn't have fought for a lost cause. He should have let Neah handle the crows, because he might have been able to actually utilize his new strength.

It didn't matter now anymore. Allen knew he had screwed up and he knew he was going to pay the ultimate price for it.

He clenched his teeth. To think that after all that effort, all that pain, he would end up like this. Had it really all been worth it? All the deaths caused by his existence because he, as Tyki had described it, just scattered confusion and conflict? And to think even the indestructible Timcanpy had never returned to his side. His heart clenched together in pain at the thought.

The door opened but he didn't even bother to look up. He didn't want to face any of them. He didn't know how. What way should he look at them? As an enemy, because they had taken these extreme measures? Or as allies because he had been on their side for so long? Should he be angry, glad, sad or afraid when he looked into the eyes of those who were going to take the last possession he had away from him?

The newcomer sat down in front of him. He could see the knees from where he was staring at the ground.

'Walker, I managed to bring in something to eat for you.'

It was Link.

Allen looked up with a dull feeling. This man was the worst of all for him. They had spent so much time together. To end it like this… he just wasn't sure what he was supposed to feel for the inspector at the moment anymore.

'It wasn't easy to persuade Lvellie,' the other man seemed uncomfortable too. 'But in the end he let Jerry cook some mitarashi dango for you. I know it's your favorite.' He opened the box he had been holding and put it on the ground in front of Allen, then reached over to the boy to release the belt that had been keeping his only hand clasped to his chest.

The boy stared at the little balls soaked in dark soy sauce. Usually the sight alone was enough to make his mouth water in eagerness, but now even the sweet scent didn't do him anything. He felt sick and to be honest he'd rather see them gone.

Link pulled back as soon as he had given the prisoner enough freedom to eat and watched with anticipation.

Allen didn't move. He let his hand flop into his lap and went back to staring at the ground. It was easier to spend time in prison if one just shut the world out. He had gotten pretty good at it.

'Aren't you going to eat them?' Link sounded worried. 'I swear they were made by Jerry. Besides, there'd be no reason for us to put anything in it.'

The air he'd been breathing for days was so dry that Allen's lips cracked the moment he opened them to answer, the taste of iron spilling on his tongue. 'I'm not hungry.'

There was a silence. One not very different from what the boy had been in for hours at a time. He could just forget Link's presence easily when he tried to blur out the world. Even if he knew the man was so quiet because he was shocked at the unexpected answer. After such a long time without food he'd usually be very grateful, but now his stomach was clenched into a knot of agony that wouldn't let anything in.

'This could be your last chance, Walker.' The words were soft and careful. 'They are deciding about your fate right now. I don't know what will be the outcome but there's a chance that…'

The man didn't even have to finish his sentence. Allen knew just as well as he did that this might be his last hour. Not his last piece of daylight, he'd already had that. The moment they had made their way down here he knew it was his last time seeing the sun's radiation.

Still the words pushed him right back into the facts and he pressed his wounded lips together. His stare turned into a focused glare at the ground as he tried to push down the confusing feelings that rushed through his veins.

But he still didn't move any closer to the snack in front of him.

Link sighed and closed the box again, shoving it against the wall next to boy. 'I'll stay here for half an hour. Take them later if you want.' The man got back up and Allen could hear him take place on a chair in the corner of the prison.

He couldn't even come there. He was chained to the wall with his feet like before and seals were plastered all over the iron and the stone walls. No-one really knew what his powers included and that meant the crows had protected against all they could think of. Even the stigmata on his forehead was covered with spell power.

They sat there in silence, the prisoner not moving at all, the inspector reading a book, until the door of the cell suddenly opened.

'A decision has been made.'

Link's head probably jerked up now, but Allen only twitched his lips in response, not moving his eyes from the floor right in front of him.

'Because of his reputation as a dangerous Noah with no further utility for our cause, Allen Walker will be executed by tomorrow midnight. There will be no reconsiderations.'

At the other side of the room he could hear Link's breath hitch. It had all been so obvious, so clear, but even then, though he didn't understand why, the news smashed into him with crushing weight. His throat contracted, his heart missed a beat. His unmoving right hand finally twitched. It was official now. He would lose his last precious possession and that by the owners of the place he had once called home.

Timothy hadn't believed it until he would see it with his own eyes. They had said Allen would be brought to the dining hall to eat there with everyone who wanted to share a table with him. At first he hadn't understood why everyone seemed so devastated by that announcement. Wasn't it great they were finally going to see him and be able to spend some time with him? But as soon as Tsukikami had patiently explained that it was for the last time ever he hadn't been able to hold back his tears.

What had Allen ever done to deserve this? He was a good person. He had always smiled at him and patiently explained anything he had wanted to know. He had shown him some card tricks and even taught him some things from the circus. Not to forget all he had done to try to protect him and the orphanage.

Even if Allen was a Noah, he was still Allen. He was still their friend. Why would they take him away from them?

He panted, moving forward as fast as his short legs would carry him. His blue hair danced on the air currents. He would have almost missed it. He had fallen asleep after studying for hours until his master had woken him to tell him he had to go to the dining hall right now if he wanted to attend too.

As soon as he turned the corner that led to the hall he saw it had all started already. A long dining table was set up, filled with a huge buffet only Jerry could organize. Everyone he knew so well was there: most of the exorcists like Lenalee, Kanda, Krory, Miranda and Marie. Johnny, Komui, Reever and some other scientists were there too and even the head nurse had taken a seat at the table that was encircled by crows as guards, the one closest to the person it was all about being Link.

Because there, all the way at the head of the table was him: Allen was covered in seals and chained to the chair. His dark skin formed a strong contrast with his snow white hair. It was a shock to see all the traits of his enemy on his friend, but at the same time he couldn't see what made the boy so different from before to the others. Allen didn't look good either. Timothy couldn't exactly say what it was but the usual radiation lacked in the smile the boy was giving. Yes, even now he was looking happy. Even though… even though this was the last time. He didn't understand it. He himself felt like he was being torn apart.

'He looks hurt,' Tsukikami commented, 'and he's not eating anything himself.'

That was the last straw for him.

He stepped forward, trying to keep himself from crying, though he was unable to keep his bottom lip from trembling, and waited until Allen made eye contact with him, recognition crossing the male's face. Incredible enough the older exorcist smiled even more broadly now.

'Timothy, I'm glad you're here too. Why don't you sit down and take something to eat as well? Here, you should be able to fit in between…'

'Why are you smiling?!'

Everyone fell silent at his exclamation and slowly heads turned. The few people who had missed it stopped talking soon enough to join them too.

His stupid lip only started trembling more and now he was aware of his hands beginning to shake too, so he clenched them to fists. 'How can you be smiling right now? Aren't…' his breath hitched, 'aren't you sad that you won't get to see us anymore?'

He was aware of everyone's gazes, but he held the silver eyes in his own, seeing how emotions he couldn't place flickered behind them.

'Timothy…,' Allen tried, then fell silent again.

The little exorcist could feel the tears burn behind his eyes and tried to keep them there as well as he could, not moving from his spot himself at all.

The other male breathed deeply, then sent the younger one that gentle expression he usually only reserved for him. 'Of course I'm sad but…' He breathed again and suddenly Timothy realized the other boy was trying to hold in his emotions as well. 'I just want this last time to be happy. I want you all to remember this with a smile. It would be a waste to not take this moment together and laugh.'

Allen was right. He saw it now. Their time was short and they had to spend it in a good way, not a bad one. Crying only made everyone unhappy. And he didn't want Allen to be unhappy in his farewell.

So he fought back his sad emotions. His smile faltered from the moment he forced it on his face, but he was determined to try to make this a happy memory. The last one he could make with the boy.

'Allen, can I sit next to you?' He sniffed, rubbing his stinging eyes. 'I really like mitarashi dango as well.'

Walker had kept himself big for the entire meal. Even when others cried at the moment they said their goodbyes at the end the boy wouldn't shed a tear. The usually so properly managed smile would only waver so slightly sometimes that he wondered if there even was anyone else than him who noticed it.

It surprised him. He hadn't thought the broken boy he had seen in prison would be able to this act. Just as much as it had surprised him central had let Walker upstairs again to spend a last hour with his friends. Maybe they hoped to keep any possible rebellions minor that way.

However, he only realized how strongly Walker had controlled himself the moment they made their way back down to his cell for the last few hours.

As soon as the stairs turned into the underground tunnel he became aware that the boy was shocking slightly. He turned to look and saw the white head was bowed down, crystal tears making their way over the dark cheeks.

'Come on, Walker, you were smiling so much just a few minutes ago.' He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and brushed it over the boy's face who was unable to do it himself with his only hand restrained to his chest.

It didn't help. Instead, the sobbing worsened until the choked breathing turned into a pitiful wail of emotions. It was like listening to the young Timothy rather than the controlled Walker he knew. He wasn't sure what to do to make it stop. He had all the reason to cry after all. Only a boy and already having experienced so many hardships. Not to forget he was dealing with the knowledge he'd seen his friends for the last time just know.

'It's okay, Walker. Come, let's get you inside, then I can free your arm and you can dry your tears.' He led the crying boy into the cell and secured his chains to the wall. The tears were dripping from his face now, splattering on Link's arms when he reached over to free the only arm the boy had.

'It's okay,' he repeated, not knowing how to soothe the boy in any other way. 'Here, take this.'

But even with his hand free Walker wouldn't move to clean his face, so in the end the man took back the handkerchief and started doing it for the boy again.

He was out of words. He couldn't say it was going to be alright, because nothing was right. In less than four hours they would take Walker's life and there was nothing to do about that. The weight of guilt pressed so hard on Link's heart that he was surprised by it himself. Had he gotten so close to the boy in the time he had observed him? Even though he'd tried so much to stay objective?

He continued to wipe the tears away, staying silent now and just being there. After half an hour the last sobs finally died out and it got all quiet. Walker had gone back to his new habit of staring at the ground, his mind probably somewhere else.

Link went back to his seat in the corner. The book he'd been reading was still there, but he was unable to focus on it. So instead he stared at the silent boy, feeling nostalgic. He wondered what would have happened if he had tried harder to help Walker with fighting against the Noah inside of him. If he'd been able to keep him from this harsh fate.

Probably not. This boy was rejected by luck ever from the start. Just like he and his siblings on the street had been. He still could remember how hard it had been on them. Especially from the moment on that The Order found them. He let himself get carried away by the memories of his own past in an attempt to pass the time without having to think too much of what they were waiting for.

It was an hour later when he noticed the shiver travelling through the prisoner. His mind went back to present immediately. Walker was trembling ever so slightly, but it was clearly visible in the way his hand shook. The dull eyes were still fixed on the ground, but he could see the tension in the boy's jaw. The way the brows pulled together.

It was only two more hours. He couldn't even imagine what Walker was facing right now. His last three hours, in this dark room, chained to a wall.

He got up and made his way over to the prisoner, sitting down next to him.

'Are you afraid?'

There was no reaction, but really, the body language were enough to proof his point.

'It will b…' He stocked halfway. No, it wouldn't be alright. He clenched his teeth, then laid his hand on a trembling leg.

'You're not alone,' he declared this time.

There was nothing else he could do right? He stared at the boy, unable to keep his own conflicted feelings from his face now. But Walker couldn't see it. He was still staring at the floor, looking at something only he could see. Such a young boy. Such a good heart. So underappreciated. Rejected as an enemy by The Order like he had never been one of them.

'I'll stay with you if you want.'

A slight nod was all he needed. He rested his back against the wall, his hand still on the young boy's leg.

'Alright, then I won't leave you alone even for a second until you tell me otherwise.'

A sweaty and trembling hand that grabbed his was the answer.

'It's time.'

It was Lvellie who came to get them. He didn't look bothered by all of it in the slightest. He just stood straight in the hallway and let Link know with his eyes that he expected the inspector to guide the boy.

'Come, Walker.' He stood up and pulled softly at the boy who had only reacted on the announcement with a tense pinch in his hand.

For a moment it seemed like the boy wouldn't respond, but then he started to move slowly.

Link managed to get him to his feet and freed him from the wall. Walker shivered when the chains fell to the ground with a rattle. His face was still directed downwards, so his eyes remained in the shadows of his hair.

Link took the hand he'd been holding before and laid it back to the chest it had already been resting on for so long before, tying it down securely with the belt of seals.

'Follow me,' the man in the doorway ordered, before turning around.

Link nodded and put a hand behind his prisoner's back, then emitted some pressure. It was enough to put Walker into motion. With small, unsure steps the boy started to walk.

As soon as they entered the dark corridor a circle of crows formed around them and together they followed the director.

The walk probably didn't take more than five minutes, but the time seemed to stretch out so much that it felt like torture. Link couldn't help but think of what lay ahead. He caught himself burying his fingers in the clothes of Walker's back, being unable to stand the thought he was literally guiding the boy to his death.

Then they passed Lvellie standing sideways in a doorway. They entered a bare room, filled with people of central. The branch heads were present too, Komui and Bak looking exceptionally grim.

Link let his prisoner to the middle of the room. There he stopped, but didn't move from the boy's side. He had promised after. His guilt wouldn't let him do anything else but try his hardest to stay close to Walker until it was all done.

The door shut with a definite sound and he could feel the body under his hand shiver again.

'We're here to carry out Allen Walker's execution,' Lvellie announced, 'Everything there was to be said about that matter has been said at the meeting before, so I expect no objections at this stage.'

Link could see Bak clench his teeth and Komui furrow his brows, but everyone stayed silent.

'We've discussed the matter of Allen Walker being a Noah and his supposedly immortality for any usual method. That's why we've decided to let general Sokaro carry out this task.'

The shivers turned to trembling. Link pressed softly with his fingers to accentuate his presence to the boy. Though he had to swallow himself as well when the mentioned man stepped forward with a psychopathic smile.

'It's a pity I've been ordered to do it fast boy,' the general growled, 'I'd love to torture a Noah like you a bit more.'

Bak seemed on the verge of exploding and took a step forward, but a hand on his arm stopped him. Komui shot him a warning glance and the Chinese man got back in line.

Link just shot a look at Lvellie, then back at the executor.

'Howard Link, please step back to give the general some space,' Link looked at the director with shock, immediately conflicted between his promise and his loyalty to the man. However, Lvellie knew his inspector perfectly well and continued: 'You have permission to go back to the boy's side afterwards.'

Link clenched his teeth. He pinched Walker's back one more time, then stepped back. The white-haired male didn't react. He just kept his eyes fixed on the ground, the tremors in his body slowly becoming visible.

'Allen Walker, you've been accused of being a heretic and a threat for The Order. Do you have any objections?'

The director was met by silence. After a minute that was taken as a 'no' and the man continued.

'Then you're verdict shall be conducted. As for today, at midnight you'll be executed by general Sokaro. Do you have any last words or wishes?'

Walker pressed his lips together, the bottom one shaking. For a moment everyone was silent and waiting in anticipation, but then the boy slowly shook his head.

'Then general Sokaro, with this I order you to conduct your assignment.'

Link couldn't look at the man who laughed in excitement. Instead, his eyes lingered on the young boy. These seconds were the last. After this there would be no Walker anymore. The time they spend together because he was assigned to him 24/7 would be the inevitable past.

Maybe he had expected boy to try to escape, or at least dodge, because it surprised him how quickly it went. The general got out his innocence and bore it right through the fragile chest like it was the most normal thing of the world.

As soon as it was pulled out the legs gave way from under the victim and he landed on the ground, a huge hole scarring his chest, spreading the floor with red liquid.

Link hurried forward without thinking. He kneeled next to the body and lifted the boy. Two silver eyes were dull, but still not entirely robbed of the life within them. He was still alive, slowly bleeding out on the bare floor.

'Walker,' he whispered, pulling the boy close to his chest.

He couldn't believe it. Even after the news had come it had all seemed like a horrible nightmare, one he would wake up from, but here he was, holding the dying boy in his hands.

He grabbed the tied up hand and squeezed it. It was cold and limp.

'Link?' Tears were welling up in the silver eyes now. It was clear they weren't seeing anything though, blinded by the lethal injury.

'It's okay, I'm still here.' Link tightened his grip on the boy's body. 'I'm not going anywhere.'

The boy stared at the ceiling, drops sliding over his temples into the dirty white hair. 'I'm sorry.'

This was ridiculous! Why was Walker apologizing? He had fought as hard as he could. Had tried everything to win. Had everything getting taken away by him and now he was apologizing to him? The one that let him get this way. The one who should have tried harder to help him. The one who had stood by, letting him get killed without doing anything to prevent it.

'I'm sorry too, Walker.' He bowed his head and whispered it so softly no-one else would be able to hear it. 'So sorry.'

A few seconds passed. The boy's life leaking away, but still not enough to end it. Even now, even in death, fate was merciless to him.

'I never got to know if Mana loved me.' Link lifted his head just a little, looking at the face distorted in pain.

'I'm sure he did,' he pulled him so close that the boy's head leaned against his chest. 'After all, who wouldn't love you?'

'I just wish I could have heard him say it.'

'He loved you, Walker and even without him you're not alone. You're such a good person. Everyone here, Lenalee, Lavi, Johnny, even Kanda loves you.'

He tried to keep his eyes off of the two men in the corner. Komui was clearly fighting his emotions, bowing his head to hide his eyes. Bak had his face buried in his hand, weeping openly. Some others could be caught leaking tears as well. Only Lvellie and the general stood there unmoving.

Link knew that if he wasn't careful he wouldn't be able to control his emotions anymore either. It wouldn't help Walker and he was sure he was already disappointing the director enough like this.

'Even I,' he whispered softly, making sure only Walker would hear it. This boy, so underappreciated all his life needed to at least hear this once, he thought, thinking of himself. 'Even I love you.'

'I'm sorry.'

There it was again, that senseless apology.

'It's okay, Walker. You've been fighting so hard. It's okay now. It's time to rest.'

He listened to the shallow breathing.

'I'll be here and I'll stay here. I won't ever leave you.'

There was no reply this time.

'I'm your observer after all. I can't let you out of my sight for even a moment. You know that. I take my orders very serious.'

But there was no-one anymore to hear those words. The once so radiating light inside the boy, the crowned clown, the one with the brightest smile he'd ever seen, had died out. Like a candle burning too high for the fuel it had been given.

But there was no-one to replenish it. No-one to save the little flame that had lost its strength to live. It was quenched in blood and nothing would be able to spark it back to live.

He bowed his head over the cold and lifeless body, only noticing now how slippery his hands had gotten by the red liquid that was soiling everything within reach. And at that moment he lost his own fight. Tears he had tried so hard to keep in slid down and splattered on that one person that had deserved all of this the least.

'I'm so sorry, Walker, so sorry.'

But there was nobody to forgive him anymore.

Allen blinked. It was dark all around him. He looked all around him, but there was nothing, not even a tiny spark to change it. Fear was slowly rising in him.

But then, suddenly he heard a familiar voice calling his name. With an eager movement he turned his head to discover a clown jumping up and down. The man was radiating light like a match.

'Allen, come with me!'

Now the dark wasn't so scary anymore. The boy smiled, suddenly a young child as he scrambled up and ran to the clown. 'I'm coming, Mana!'

'Come, Allen!' The man waved his hand in a beckoning motion.

His feet moved as fast as they could. Allen panted as he tried to cross the distance as fast as he could. But the man wasn't getting closer, instead, it was like he was moving away. His calls slowly growing fainter and fainter.

'Mana, wait! Mana!' Tears escaped his eyes. His legs worked hard to keep up, but were to short.

The light faded and nothing would point in its direction. Where had the clown gone again?

He sunk down to the ground and cried. He was so lonely and it was so dark. He was scared and alone. What should he do now?

A strong hand was laid on his shoulder. He turned his head to look at its owner with teary eyes.

It was a young male, with spiky black hair and dark skin. Where had he seen him again?

'He's gone because there's someone else you have to return to instead, Allen. If you want I can still show you the way and you would be able to go with him, but…' the male pointed past him, making the boy follow the finger to a group of other people. 'wouldn't you rather return to them instead? He's your past, they are your present and maybe, if you work hard your future.'

Allen's eyes widened and suddenly he wasn't a child anymore, but a teen, looking at the friends he'd made at The Order: Lenalee, Lavi, Johnny, Kanda, Miranda, Marie, Timothy, Krory and a lot of others. Tim was flying halfway there, beckoning him with its tail to come over.

'It's not all lost yet, Allen,' the other man told him gently. 'You've fought hard and long. You've experienced a lot of pain. I'd understand if you decided to rest now, but you didn't you swear you'd keep on walking? That means to look at the present and the possible future and leave the past behind.'

He looked back at the male, suddenly recognizing him.

'Neah…'

The man only blinked as response to that obvious remark and stepped back. Suddenly two other people appeared next to him. A man with wild red hair and glasses who reminded him strongly of his master, but then with a younger face, and another male, almost identical to Neah, but then with long curly hair and a gentle expression.

'I know I shouldn't look back either,' the Noah told him with an almost nostalgic expression, 'but I must admit that even so, I couldn't help but bear the hope that maybe, once you'll remember, you'd return to us.'

Then the three of them faded, leaving Allen in the dark, with on the side the group of people he knew so well. A few seconds later he noticed Mana back on the other side, jumping up and down in excitement.

'Now choose, Allen,' Neah's voice floated through the air, 'for either the past, present or future.'

For a moment the boy felt lost. He looked at his friends smiling at him, then back at the clown he considered as the dearest person in his world. Mana was laughing at him and dancing around. He had the strong urge to fling himself in the man's arms and then dance with him. But the man had died. This was all just an illusion, it couldn't be anything else.

He blinked and swiped away the tear that was running over his cheek. That was over now. He had new memories to make now. Neah was right: he had to move on. Maybe, he could make the future better.

He looked at his friends, saw their welcoming expressions and suddenly it didn't seem so hard anymore. He faced Mana, smiled and waved, feeling himself warm up when the man waved back. Then he turned around and took a step, then another one. His feet sped up until he broke into a run. He met Tim halfway, smiling at the golem as it circled his head then followed him and together they reached what his heart would make him call: 'home'.

He woke up with his muscles burning. They begged him to move, but as soon as he tried to he realized he was stuck in a very cramped space. There was no light to tell him where he was, neither could he lift his hands enough to feel around, his elbows were still bowed when he'd touch the ceiling of wherever he was.

He was starting to feel strangely claustrophobic now.

Where was he? Why was it so cramped in here? Why was it so dark? And it was so silent!

'Hello, can anyone hear me?!'

There was no answer.

'Is there anybody there?!'

He shifted again, groaning when he muscles screamed in pain.

'Nobody will be able to hear you.'

The voice came from his mind. It took him a few seconds to realize who it was.

'Why? Do you know where I am? Did you do this?!'

The other laughed. 'If anyone did this it would be you. But yes, I know where you are. Well, not entirely, but I guess you're about two meters below the earth's surface.'

'Two meters below…' suddenly his eyes widened when his recent memories returned. 'I've been buried.'

'Exactly! Lucky for you they buried you instead of cremated. Otherwise you'd really be done for.'

Buried, wait, but… 'The Order always cremates its members. Why would it bury me? That doesn't make any sense.'

'Don't ask me. I long gave up to understand those idiotic hypocrites.'

The choice of words bugged Allen, but he guessed he wasn't really in the position to protest about it, being executed by them and all.

'What's more important right now is getting you out of here. I can help you to blast this lid to pieces, but after that the sand will fall in and you'll have to wrestle yourself through all its layers in the short time you have.'

That didn't sound very appealing, but he had to admit he couldn't come up with a better plan. He hoped they wouldn't have buried him too deep. 'Alright, let's begin with this thing.' He pressed his hands against the wooden surface.

'First you'd better take a deep breath, it might be the last you can take for a few minutes.'

He followed the man's instructions and felt the Noah's mind brush his. It guided him to the source of the destructive power inside of him and gave him a slight nudge in the right direction of releasing it controllably.

Within a few seconds he could feel the ceiling burst into splinters and after that the crushing weight of earth dropping down on his body. For a moment he was so dazed that he had forgotten what to do next, but another nudge of Neah to his mind reminded him to dig.

His hands scratched at the layers above him, making space to move upward. His body followed, slowly climbing higher and higher. His lungs screamed for oxygen. His muscles for space. His mind for being released from this terrifying experience.

Suddenly he understood why some people were so scared of being buried alive.

Still he didn't give up. He fought against gravity, shoving more and more sand away.

Suddenly his fingers broke through, touching air instead of rough dirt. Excitement rushed through him. With his foggy mind from lack of oxygen he couldn't wait to just breathe.

His other hand cracked the surface. They found a hold on the ground and pushed, moving up the rest.

And suddenly his head was free. He spit out a mouthful of dirt before opening it and sucking in as many air as he could.

A moment later he managed to free his legs as well and he flopped down on the ground, panting, feeling like he had rolled through mud for hours. His whole face and skin was covered in it. His nose and eyes blocked by its grains.

'Good job, you made it. Now you can officially call yourself alive again.'

'Alive?' He pushed himself up and looked around. It looked just like a normal clearing. Trees, plants and rocks surrounding him. Was he really alive? He just had kind of assumed he'd awoken in whatever came after death. He had been killed by The Order hadn't he?

'Yeah. They used innocence,but not really thorough enough,' Neah explained. 'You seemed dead, but actually your Noah was just healing you slowly. So that's why you woke up under the ground like that. Though I must say your mind could have actually died, leaving your body without it.'

'So they didn't actually kill me?' He sat back, his hands in his lap. 'But I was so sure…'

'Well, surprise! Though your mind really would have died in usual conditions.'

His mind would have died. Suddenly he pictured a dark space, with people in it. He remembered running to his friends, being welcomed by them, then waking up. 'You brought me back…'

'No, you brought yourself back. I just… gave you the choice.'

Suddenly he realized what it meant. If his mind had died his body would still have lived. It would have been mindless, except that there was another mind in it. Did that mean that if he would have died Neah would have had it all for his own? 'Why would you do that? You could have gotten rid of me without any effort.'

He felt the man shrug his shoulders in his mind rather than really see it, then suddenly his cheeks started to tingle, like he was blushing and suddenly Allen realized it was Neah's emotion. 'I kind of… had to return a favor.'

'What favor?'

But the Noah wouldn't say anything else about it.

He looked back at his lap, letting his eyes travel over the body he had been so sure he'd lose. When he lifted his shirt he could see the scar of where the innocence had hit him. It still looked a fiery red and burned, but apart from that it wasn't anything special. Only then he realized something was off.

His eyes traveled to his hands. He lifted them in front of his eyes and moved the fingers.

Hands. Plural.

His eyes widened. 'I have two hands.'

He could feel Neah's smile as if he was doing it himself, even though he was sure the corners of his mouth were still where they had been before. It was kind of strange.

'Do you like it?'

Allen observed them again, moved all his fingers separately, then rolled up his sleeve and revealed a black arm. It wasn't normal flesh, but he didn't feel the presence of Crown Clown either.

'I made them from dark matter. The earl you know isn't the only one who can create it.'

For a moment that thought disgusted him, but then he moved his arm again, feeling relieved in how easy it went. It felt like part of himself, rather than a mechanical arm. It could be very useful. Maybe he could get used to this.

'It can pass, I guess.'

'Great, then you at least can't say I haven't tried to repay my debt.'

He wondered what that meant, but knew better than to ask. Instead he looked at the horizon where light was getting stronger. Dawn was approaching.

'So, what do I do now? I can't go back to The Order.'

'That you're definitely not going to do. Why don't you just find a place to shower, eat and sleep now. After taking care of your main objective: keeping alive, you can start thinking of what you really want. You'll need to come up with a plan.'

'I guess so.' He looked at his left hand, stretching its fingers. It was so weird to have it back but still not actually having it. It wasn't the real deal, he told himself.

His body felt heavy, like he'd slept for days after a heavy mission that had left him almost unmoving in the infirmary. Still he forced he legs to move. With a lot of effort he rose back to his feet.

'Let's go find an inn and sneak in then. I don't think anyone will be willing to help me as I am now.'

Neah only hummed softly in reply.

The sun just released itself from the grip of the horizon, when the boy turned around and walked away as a shadow against the red morning light.