They find him with blood running from his nose down his face.
OoOoO
He can taste metal but can't bother to spit it out, he's too tired. Though his eyes are open they're unseeing, focusing only on the flames surrounding him, burning the skin on his heel. It stings yet he doesn't move. He can't help but think about how it'll leave ugly marks. Not that it really matters. Nothing truly matters at this point.
He closes his eyes, imagining himself away. If he tries hard enough he can almost hear his father's voice, telling him he's proud. He can feel Toothless' warm breath on his cheek — it's the fire, yes, but he can ignore the thought of knowing in favor of peace. With his eyes closed he can pretend Astrid's hands are running through his hair, that's she's asking him to stop jumping off of cliffs. And with those things in mind he smiles for what feels like the first time in way too long. It's strained, a grimace, but it's a smile nonetheless.
This works for a little while, but the overwhelming feeling of dread finds its way back too fast. He knows without looking that his hands — folded in his lab — are shaking, trembling. He can't focus on anything anymore, his head is screaming multiple things at him all at once.
He feels a twisted sense of happiness. He'll be free soon. Soon he won't have to worry. Soon everything will be okay.
He doesn't scream when the fire grows bigger around him. He doesn't.
His hands are covered in dirt, just like the rest of him. When he lifts his hand to rub the sleepiness away, he wonders if the tears have been there the whole time, or if he merely got dust in his eyes.
He can faintly hear what sounds like someone calling his name.
Then everything goes black.
OoOoO
They find him covered in his own blood, green eyes hollow and dark. They find him wheezing, having trouble breathing because of all the smoke he inhaled. They find him half dead.
They found his body but were too late to find him.