I hope you like this fanfic! I've been working on the plot since Halloween, I had the first three chapters out but deleted them due to an overload of 'FAILURE!' I truly think this is MUCH better, and hope you do too!
I changed the name, this piece used to be called 'HetaZombie' but that's so cliché! So enjoy, Death At The Door!
DISCLAIMER: If I owned Hetalia, I wouldn't need to write a fan fiction, now would I? So I don't own it! Everything goes to its respective owners~! Thank you!
Two blurry figures slowly walked down a gravel path in complete darkness. The only light was the silver luminescent moon and the few dim street lamp barely lighting the ground beneath its bulb. Only a few wispy, ashen clouds placed at random in the sky dared cover it's shine with a smoldering grey. Green grass and vibrant trees howled and whistled in the gentle autumn breeze, soft crunches of shoes on tan tiny rocks and nearly inaudible deep breaths were the only quiet noises heard in unbearable silence.
The figures continued their way down the dusty path, the one was tall, appeared to have it's hair slicked back and walked at a faster pace than the shorter. The latter had a wild, random curl sticking out of the side of it's head. Silence still floated on the night's open air; however the slower figure grew tired of the quiet.
"Veh~ Germany… How far away is it?" Italy asked, his feet and upper legs throbbed from the fleeing that had previously occurred all day. The Italian's clothes were ripped, torn from falling, getting caught on shrubbery and worst of all being attacked with narrow escapes.
His clothes and skin was littered head to toe in blackish dried blood patches, some of it was even in his hair, making it mat and look more tangled than it currently was. Granted not bathing for days while being in an apocalypse would lower anyone's hygiene level. Italy's normally bubbly, happy-go-lucky and all around peaceful expression has been replaced by one of fatigue, one of wariness; working to the bone to survive. Survival meant running and they were always running. Never calling one place home, or even staying in a certain town too long. But the travels take their toll and rest is needed, but where can you rest when the very ground you walk on could not be trusted?
"Italy, we are almost to the base. Just through this park, remember? Hold on a little longer for me, ja?" Germany turned towards the weary male, empathy in his cold blue eyes. The German understood the sudden change of lifestyle was hard, he knew Italy was long past exhausted and needed to rest. But Germany also knew if they failed to return to base by sunrise they would surely be dead.
Turning back around, Germany and Italy continued down the dusty, plain path in silence, once in awhile the stronger man would turn around to see how Italy was doing, he always tried to hide his emotions, but his eyes would give the sham away; they were tainted with pain.
How he wished all of Italy's pain could be taken away, make the suffering end, and erase the past week of torment out of his memory forever. But life was never so simple; this period of time would forever be etched into their memories.
Germany continued to study the limping man, you could easily tell from the way Italy's clothes hung off of the tan skin he needed to eat, when he removed his shirt you could almost see his ribs. For only a week of irregular eating, Italy looked a hell of a lot worse than he should be. Germany tried to convince himself it wasn't that bad, the Italian was slimmer than the others to begin with; the change of weight didn't mean anything. But the blonde knew he was lying to himself. He wondered how much the Italian needed to eat to satisfy that hunger fully.
Hunger; one of your worst enemies during this crisis, you felt the painful twist and pains in your stomach, but unable to sate it due to lack of food. Yes, Germany knew this pain for he had experienced firsthand the feeling of not eating for days; he currently hasn't eaten for days. Every bit of food they had gotten this week had been given to the scrawny Italy; Germany would continue doing this until the Italian looked healthy once more. Just seeing the look of surprise and happiness on Italy's face was worth any pain. Feliciano would always protest, but Ludwig told him he was fine, even if his stomach was secretly aching and protested the decision, desiring the small amount of bread, soups, or other little snacks they received. Luckily, while they were in town today they had managed to get more backing products and lots of soups. They
"G-Germ-"Italy murmured breaking the silence once more and pulling Germany back from his thoughts. He turned around just in time to see Feliciano swaying, before his body betrayed itself and tumbled over, legs unable to hold the weight and came crashing down.
"ITALY!" Germany exclaimed he threw his bags to the side -which made a clank of metal on metal- he turned on his heel and swiftly was beside Italy's side, successfully catching the smaller male in his arms.
The last thing Italy remembered was a sharp pain in his leg and a twist in his stomach; he tried to ask Germany to help but the world span. Warmth surrounded the Italian before everything faded into a dark nothing of unconsciousness.
Ludwig held Feliciano in a tight grip, his heart was thumping and he had sped up his breathing, but upon inspection nothing seemed to be seriously injured on Italy's body. He was just tired and simply needed to stop moving. Such an easy solution yet the relief that washed over the blonde actually surprised him, it felt as if the world was lifted off his shoulders. But it was quickly replaced with the life of a certain sleeping Italian. Defenseless, weak and an easy prey for the undead scourge that plagued humanity.
Germany picked up the dropped bags, and flung them over his toned shoulder. Before getting home as soon as possible was a wise option, now it was mandatory. Getting back to base, RIGHT NOW, was the only survival option. If it wasn't safe in the park before, it was sure as hell not safe now. All the racket the two, mainly Germany, had caused was drawing unwanted attention. Normally the German could handle a few –or more- zombies, but being starved, tired, hurt and with an immobile Italian was really stacking the odds, and not in their favor. Not even adding on to the fact no one alive should be in the park, the simplest noises would attract the horde. That's why they walked so quietly.
"Scheiße!" Germany swore, he moved the Italian closer into his safe embrace; before Ludwig broke out into a full on sprint. Taking note some of the infected up ahead, Germany tried to pull out his gun but failed miserably, he couldn't stretch his arm far enough to get the gun, well he could but it meant dropping the supplies or dropping Italy. Even if he could have reached it, he wouldn't have been able to aim properly anyways because there was far too much in his arms to steady a shot, hold the recoil and actually hit the target. Sliding one bag farther up his arm, he made room for Italy to move onto one side of his body leaving the other hand free to shoot when needed. He carefully removed his favorite pistol; Radom wz.35 Vis, and brought it right in front of his face before pulling the trigger and watching the moaning body fall limp to the ground. The blonde continued down the path, always checking over his shoulder to make sure nothing was behind him. Noticing an enemy too close for comfort, the German unmercifully shot it straight between the eyes.
Bull's-eye!
Ludwig quickly realized that shooting was a bad idea due to the loud noise, and it was quickly attracting more of them: the staggering, moaning walking dead with decaying fleshy bodies and blood-covered faces that had flesh falling from their faces and if they didn't have that it was in-between their teeth. They always left mounds of flesh trailing behind their limping legs, an aroma of death followed close behind.
A slight pain was starting to grow in Germany's own legs. He just ignored it and kept running.
'Italy is going to be fine; I'm taking him to the safe house! Italy is going to be fine; I'm taking him to the safe house! Italy is going to be fine; I'm taking him to the safe house! ITALY IS GOING TO BE FINE! I WILL KEEP HIM SAFE!' Germany kept repeating that phrase in his head; that's all he could do to keep himself from joining the sick and cruel madness of the new world, Italy was his way out. No matter what happened he seemed to carry a smile, no matter how little amount of time you spent with him, he would always grace you with warmth that felt nostalgic once you were done speaking with him... Germany found Italy to be the last pure part of his life, and no way in hell a murderous, growling blood-hungry infected corpse going to soil it with despair and its filthy kind's unstable, endless hunger for flesh.
The blonde noticed more and more of the undead were beginning to appear, and they were blocking his, now anyone with a brain could easily figure out the next course of action.
Another zombie dared to be too close for comfort. BANG! Another filthy bastard! BANG! There were so many now, but to stop shooting after this many bullets would be pointless, let them come! BANG! BANG! BANG!
'I'm taking him back! He can get medical treatment. I promise I'll keep you safe, even if it costs me my life!' Ludwig thought, narrowing his icy eyes and giving a glare that would leave you paralyzed with fear. He stumbled once and almost lost balance, the pain in his legs was excruciating, and Germany was purely willing his legs to keep moving forward, a throbbing stab of pain was constantly shooting up his limbs. Tears were threatening to form in his cold, fearless eyes. His legs were betraying his will; the blonde was starting to slow down, all the strength had already been spent from the constant fleeing that occurred earlier that day.
Germany felt a lump grow in his throat as the realization of his words truly set in; the odds were stacked against the pair, surviving at this point seemed near impossible.
But he had to bring Italy back to safety! Even the thought of innocent, beautiful, fragile, playful, kind, sweet Italy. HIS innocent, beautiful, fragile, playful, kind, sweet Italy being thrown down by a terrifying, half rotten zombie made Germany's blood boil and the want to destroy every last one of their kind even greater, his teeth clenched as the visual images began to roll into his mind.
"No time to day dream! I have to keep moving!" The German snarled past his teeth, he had to refrain from a letting a low growl escape his mouth when too many of the infected were on the path. He turned his head to the left then right, only a few on his left side while many on the right, the plan still remained to get home just how they were getting home had changed. A sharp turn was made, Ludwig swerved past the slow groggy enemies, they would lunge for him but their movements were slow and almost seemed delayed. The blonde kept sprinting left until trees came into his vision, behind the dark brown lush trees was pitch-black uncertainty, and nothing good ever came from places where you were impaired or lost.
Once more a sharp turn was made, putting more strain on his tiring ankles and legs, the duo was running through a very poorly light field, trees engulfed all of their left side in mystery and the unexpected while to their right the tan path could barely be seen. It may have been the light or the distance but only a faint gravel line could be seen from their current spot. The Horde still stood in front of the blonde, slowly inching their way closer.
Ludwig brought his gun up once more, trying to somewhat clear their new route.
BANG! Reload! Get them out of the way! No time to stop! He had to keep going pushing through the seemingly endless horde. He had to will his worn out body to move forward, they were so close. He just couldn't let himself stop! He had-
The world spun, his vision was blurred, and his legs gave one more last throb, a sharp pain that went from his hips to his toes, then the German collapsed. His legs couldn't take any more abuse, this was the end.
This was the last stand, but being the infamous Germany; had a plan.
He checked around for the nearest infected; he didn't see any close enough to pose as a threat for at least a minute. Maybe a minute and a half if he was lucky, given his current circumstances he assumed luck was NOT on his side today. Quickly making work of his short time, the German placed all the bags down, the softest one he currently had was one of clothes, at least lady luck was going to grace him with the slight fortune of a soft pillow. He placed Italy on the ground directly in front of him - close enough he could easily grab the sleeping Italian if he was to get attacked but far enough away to not be squishing him either. The German laid himself down on his side. He propped himself up on his forearm, leaving his other arm to be used for shooting. Now that he was done preparations for himself, it was time to get Italy more comfy. Using the clothing bag from before as a pillow, Ludwig gently lifted Feliciano's head, and proceeded to place the make-shift pillow beneath his head. Remembering one last important detail, the German hastily pulled out an old metal bat, placing it in between him and the snoozing (A/N: Sleeping, I don't know if you know of the Canadian slang ;D) male.
Germany took one last look at the beautiful man beside him.
'Ja, that's my Feliciano laying on the ground as if it was the most comfy thing in the world, and sleeping as if he was not about to die,' The stronger male gave a small, regretful chuckle before thinking about his last word.
'Die?' Germany repeated in his head.
Yes, death did seem like the immanent sentence, no matter how long he tried to hold them off, Ludwig knew he didn't have the ammo to last forever, even if he did the noise would only keep attracting more. Not to mention how much more fatigued he would get from working for such a long stressful time period.
The blonde continued to stare at Feliciano's face, memorizing his facial expression. Incase this was the last moment they were with each other; he'd rather have a peaceful looking image than one of tears or blood. Germany leaned in closer, and closer, their breath mingled, any closer and lips would touch, then the world could feel as if on pause, and Germany could pretend-
Pretend?
Pretend what?
Pretend he loved Italy? No… He didn't pretend, he lo… No! Not the time to be thinking about this!
The German gave deep sigh before retreating from the sleeping male. His head snapped up to see the horde shuffle to his direction, non close enough to truly be worried about still, soon though…
Ludwig sighed once more, this time he was feeling beaten, as if he had been bested at his own game. Was this really how the mighty and powerful Germany was going to fall?
Protecting some Italian idiot?
Once again he would be lying to himself; he knew he wanted to protect said 'Italian Idiot'.
Ludwig stole his final gaze at Feliciano, he repeated him promise;
"I will return you home safely. I will protect you!" He said this out loud for once, letting Italy know he was going to keep it. The promises of protection and safety, it reminded him of that pinky promise a lifetime ago…
Germany's eyesight drew back to the prolonged battle, back to the field surrounding the two, and back to the infected that rapidly approached them. He studied his surroundings, dreading the next moments in his life. With the zombies closing in, the German steadied his aim-
BANG!
The shot echoed through the trees, enticing the undead to come forward with the promise of food to temporarily feed their never ending hunger.
BANG!
Headshot, if Ludwig kept this up, they may actually have a chance to escape!
BANG! The shot went straight past the zombie's head and into a tree, creating a loud 'thunk'.
'One more shot, I know I can make it.'
BANG! Another wasted bullet, not even hitting or grazing the skin, it went straight past the head; Noise being made for no reason.
'Miss! What the hell? I basically live for my military and making sure everything is in order and by the book. MISSING. Missing is NOT going by the book!' Germany ground his teeth, preparing to attack once more.
A steady shot was taken and the target was finally hit, the creature fell backwards it's landing being confirmed when the sound of grass being squished and a very soft 'thud' could be heard for a second.
'That's better, now I just need to-'Ludwig cut himself short as the sound of moaning appeared behind him. Shit, he forgot to watch his back, the German swiftly turned around and shot it's head in without a split second delay. He turned his body back around to see out of the corner of his left icy blue eye; a zombie shuffling it's way towards them. He focused straight for the zombies forehead, readied his hand, before pulling the trigger. The blonde's eyes widened in shock as no bullet was shot, he tried to shoot the gun once more. He tried to cock it, but the bullet refused to launch from the gun.
'The damn thing is jammed!' Germany swore internally, locking his focus on the one unbalanced, clumsy predator that was closing in on it's prey.
One last option still remained; fighting them off by hand. As much as his legs would request rest, and as much as the throbbed, it really was the only option. The only other gun he had was empty, all it's ammo had been used previously to shoot in the heads of the walking dead.
Seeing as trying to think the zombie to death, and it was nowhere it should be, Germany clumsily stood up, his movements weak yet strong, it took much willpower to stand in such a condition. He grabbed the bat, using it as leverage to stand; also he will need it for his next attack move. The old metal bat was covered in dried and blackening blood; it was almost completely a dark maroon at the top, while the putrid blood splattered up to the handle. The blonde lips curled up into a small regretful smile, any thought was quickly thrown out the second he took a step forward. One step closer to the awaiting battle, then another – all Germany was doing was testing to see if he was going to collapse once more or if he could handle the pain. The small hesitant steps were soon being replaced by larger more confident ones, until the tall male was going fast enough to almost be considered a charge.
Even if the step size had changed, the pain that shot and throbbed and burned in his leg and ankles made his walk limped, and a tiny part of Ludwig wished to just himself fall once more and end the torture. But his pride would never allow the mighty German to die so easily.
The nearing zombie was finally within hitting range, a large metal bat was smashed into the skull of a rotting corpse, a dark spray of blood splattered from the hit, and coated some of the German's face, much to his dismay though. Some of the heavier and larger drops rolled down his cheeks, recreating the feeling of crying.
Seeing as the infected were still around –and coming- Germany chased after the other intruders. His next target was a putrid abomination, one arm hung uselessly to the side only being held together by a chunk of rotting flesh and part of a clearly visible bone. The other arm had already fallen off along the way; muscles dangled limply -no point of being in use. It's right eye hung out of its socket only being connected by the optic nerve, the eye swung lazily with ever step or movement of the body. Some skin on its left cheek was peeling off, just waiting to tear and fall off at any given moment.
The horrid smell that accompanied the hideous creature would make someone's eyes water and turn their stomach. But Germany –and the others- were used to it's stench by now, it only made they wince when the scent intrudes in their nostrils.
The blonde made a face of disgust at the shuffling creature, he raised his bat and using all his force he took a swing at it's head, leaving a crater in the bat's wake. The creature grunt in protest before falling to the ground, Ludwig looked down at it with pity.
The poor soul, he almost took a second to apologize but something hastily grabbed onto his broad shoulders and yanked backwards. Germany's eyes widened, shock and panic over took his mind for a split second, but that's all it takes for a morbid starved zombie to make it's move and sink it's razor like teeth into warm, bloody flesh.
Ludwig grunted in pain, the zombie bit his shoulder and ripped off a chunk of flesh. The sting of the bite was worse than his leg; his leg was only a minor injury in comparison. The wound on his shoulder bled, it had an imprint of ragged teeth that surely was to scar. Furious the damn beast even dared to touch him, Germany grabbed the zombie by its hair before it tried to take another bite, with his good hand and with his injured arm he elbowed the creature in the face, making it stager backwards. The blonde turn around and kicked it to the stomach, successfully making it fall to the ground. He then raised his bat once more, and struck it upon the zombie's skull, shattering it and rendering the lifeless creature dead for good.
Not even a good 10 seconds passed before another of the undead drew the German's attention; it had neared the 'if-you-even-step-near-Italy-I-will-personally-beat-your-head-in' zone. Which of course meant tending to his arm would have to wait; more important matters were at hand. This pattern continued for countless enemies; target, catch, exterminate. This pattern would continue until they were all gone, or even more strength would be lost and once more the world would spin as he fell.
The bat raised, a skull crushed, a grunt of both enemy and protector.
Germany finally had a chance to truly realize what using a gun meant, the after effects it caused. Sure it got the enemies out of the way, but so many swarmed; like moths to a flame. Ludwig knew the noise would attract the zombies, so why had he used his gun? He was confident in his skills, so why didn't he just run? Sure a scratch here or there, but in the long run it would have been easier. Not to mention the time he carelessly called out Italy's name-
"Italy!" Germany voiced without even recognizing his second time making the same mistake; the undead which were beginning to leave turned their disgusting faces to the noise and began to walk. Of course this didn't even concern the German, a more imposing threat stood at his feet- or literally stood at Italy's feet.
The blonde stood quite a distance from the defenseless male, and there was a single zombie –all the others were heading Germany's way- towering Feliciano's form, the silver moonlight no longer made his face glow in its beauty. Now a shadow was cast upon the handsome oblivious face instead, while an undead, fleshy, back was being lighten up, only adding the brutal image Germany saw.
"Italy! Wake up! FELICIANO!" Ludwig wailed, he didn't even care if his voice no longer carried a threat of any form, if it didn't even carry the normal strict tone.
The only care in the world was the unconscious male who was too far away to be helped. Panic spread through every fiber of Ludwig's being as a certain memory flashed into his icy blue eyes:
"It seems we can only be bit three times…" Japan stated, his voice trailing off, it cracked twice during his sentence. Which was an odd occurrence considering this was the level headed Kiku we all knew and loved.
The sudden news startled me; I lifted my eyes from the gun I was cleaning. Eye contact was quickly attained and few a few awkward seconds we just stared into each other's eyes, I didn't understand why he decided that would be a good conversation starter, then again this was Japan. You never knew with him. What really got me the most was the Japanese man hadn't talked in two whole days, he only nodded or gave small short words as his reply.
'Nice way to say 'hello'' I half heartedly thought, but I truly couldn't stay mad at him forever, he has recently lost someone very important…
"Why are you telling me this, Japan?" I responded, I did understand what he was saying, but the reason and what he was trying to secretly tell me eluded my understanding.
"It is a helpful tip, Ludwig-"
'He used my first name…'
"I've been keeping track of those who have been bit… Would you like to know?" He politely asked me, though behind those caring brown eyes I could easily tell he could care less about what I had to think. His eyes were bitter, and only those who knew him would be able to tell.
I nodded hesitantly, honestly fearing the news that I was about to hear.
"As you already know, YOU have never been bit, I have been once, Italy has been twic-"
"What? That many? Wait, Japan how do you know we cannot be bit four or five times?" I quickly asked, feeling defensive about Italy's bite count and a snappy edge was in my voice, which was not like me. But the damn Italian always brought out my protective nature, like when he phoned me, even if I didn't want to go, I had to because I couldn't leave him stranded.
Once the words left my lips I instantly regretted them, I already knew the answer…
The face Japan made at me would make Belarus cry and hide; he honestly looked as if he wanted to beat the shit out of someone. The facial expression was short lived as his expression swiftly reverted back to normal calm, collected, and expressionless. As much as the way he looked while angered was frightful, the blank way his face looked caused more fear.
Silence filled the tense air, and a silent war clearly was going on inside Kiku's head until one side, though I wasn't sure good or bad, won and he began to speak, his voice blank, uncaring, and almost felt indescribable.
"There… Is a reason Heracles-San is not with us anymore"
That was all he said before standing up abruptly, and swiftly making his way out of our current base's living room.
The memory faded away and Germany felt a near overwhelming desire to just fall to his knees, not from exhaustion but because there was no way he would save Italy, it just wasn't possible for him to save the Italian!
The reality stung, the honesty of the situation and how he knew the possibility of Feliciano coming out alive were slim; if not even extinct.
The German gripped the handle of his bat so hard his knuckles turned white. He full-out sprinted towards Italy, no more time could be lost, the creature had already got to it's knees and began to descend, going for a nice chop; Italy a la nom.
"YOU BASTARD" Ludwig screamed "Back away from Feliciano!"
'Gunshots..?
One… Two… Three… four? Five?
No more… Maybe it was my imagination… Six, seven?
There were many. Veh...?
Why is there shooting? Is Germany fighting Britain? Wait… No, those days have long since ended; the world is at peace now. Maybe America is practicing his shooting again? No, no, no, that isn't right either! What was it? Everything is perfect right?
Veh~?
Wait, I remember! Oh… the world is being faced with an apocalypse right now.'
The fog on Italy's memories was lifting; he was starting to remember the past week and all the hardships that graced it. The fighting, the blood, having to kill people in his own country, then fleeing not even properly burying them, but Germany was always there to calm the crying Italian, Germany was his protector, and Italy trusted the German with his life. How literal some statements were…
'WAIT!'
'If there was shooting that means…! GERMANY! Where was Germany? Ve-Italy! Just calm down like Germany always tells you! Try to think!'
After much concentration, his limited hearing had a larger range; the piercing silence was being dulled by low and nearly inaudible grunts and other sounds. Sounds the Italian usually would have been able to identify but any distinguishing thoughts seemed to elude his dazed mind. The next task was to try and regain sight, much to Italy's dismay the 'task' was more work then he originally thought.
'Ita~' An unknown voice rang swiftly and only due to concentration Italy caught onto the sound, other wise he wouldn't even have heard it.
'Veh! What was that, my mind must be playing tricks on me, did I just hear Lud-Germany?'
A few seconds – or what felt like seconds- no other traces of the cause for the noise were found, so Italy just chalked it up to his over-active imagination.
'Ita…!'
'No! No! NO! Don't think about that! Stop it! I can't open my eyes, or speak, and all these noises I hear- I – I can't think of what might be-'
The Italian would be crying from fear and panic if he could, he didn't understand what was happening, everything in his world was black. Memories wished to be present but just couldn't come to the surface, letting him drift off into a joyful, more pleasant world. But then again, that world didn't have the real Ludwig in it, only half blurred versions. The real one was always so much more enchanting, exhilarating, sometimes Italy felt he could just stare into those deep, icy blue eyes all day and daydream.
'Wake up!' Germany's voice called, clearly distinguishable and Feliciano had no doubts it was the German beckoning him.
'Germany?' The Italian tried to voice but nothing would escape his pale, closed lips. No reply was returned, and the question of if the reddish-brown haired male's voice actually spoken turned up as a negative.
'Feliciano!' Ludwig's deep voice echoed through Italy's head, but the voice lacked its normal commanding yet gentle edge. Stress and desperation was quite evident in the tone, yet this still caused less worry. The real fright began the second Italy clued in Germany has used his human name; Ludwig never used human names, as he preferred to keep things more formal and use country names
Willing all his mental capacity to focus directly on regaining consciousness, Italy managed to mutter an unclear, nearly silent, and barely coherent
"G…erma….ny"
Feliciano strained to make his fatigued eyes flutter open; slowly the foggy darkness left his mind and his eyes half opened. Instead of the handsome German face smiling down at him, Italy was greeted with a rotting zombie. Its mouth hung open – the strong scent of guts, flesh and blood rolled out of it. The face barely had skin that still covered it, part of the jaw was missing, you could see it's teeth from the pieces that were rotten off. Half of the hair had fallen out, an eyeball entirely was missing. Blood stained lips were lowering themselves upon the recently awoken Italian.
Feliciano gasped before his eyes widened to the point they almost bulged out of his head.
"L-LUDWIG!" Italy screeched, yet his voice came out no louder than America talking normally. Tears began to stream down the sides of his face; the undead corpse was only a hairs width away from ripping a piece of 'food.' The reddish-brown haired male felt helpless, and a stray thought crossed his mind;
Could this be the true end?
