White Noise
by SMYGO4EVA
She had conviction; he had ambition. Pakunoda was the observer, who felt too much; Uvogin was loud, boisterous, and yet knew much more than met the eye. It never occurred to them that death would be on their doorstep that soon, though they accepted it as an inevitability. It was a tragedy and a death knell all at once, hearts pierced by the chain of judgment.
Sure, they had signed their death warrants when they joined the Phantom Troupe, but they knew that it was par for the course. Uvogin made crimson smear the black of night in rampages, and Pakunoda let venom sear, course through those who stood in their way. It was how they survived in such a world they lived in, coming from nothing, arcing from nonexistence to spraying blood across many bodies, their presence known.
They had become accustomed to the white noise that came with ending a life. There was no fantasy, no history, as there was only what came next. They never knew how, who, or why would end their lives, until it was too late, but they fell for the Troupe, for their cause. That carried them both through the ether, their last breath puffs of air, lifted and silenced like smoke.
Quick, silent, unyielding – it was a bittersweet ache, fitting for them in a way, and upon them, the white noise all that was left now.