A/N: Hello! It's been a while since I've last published a one-shot, so I thought it was about time!(x Though I'll warn you that this one is quite depressing. And quite short. Hehe. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I'm starting to run out of clever disclaimers. (Not that I ever had any to begin with.) So, no. :P

And Then, There Was A Silence

Time Frame — Night of December 1st, 1898

—3rd Person POV—

~Allen~

Months of being on the run and battling against his inner demon, only for it to lead to this? Allen had to swallow down the bile in the back of his throat, hands trembling and feet shifting among the viscous bloodbath beneath him. For as far as the eye could see, the trampled remains of the second Headquarters laid in its wake, crumbling pillars and arches stacked in teetering piles that threatened to topple over at any moment. But the broken remnants of the castle couldn't shield the corpses littering the wreckage, countless splatterings of blood and chunky entrails smeared across for all to see. The carnage of Akuma, Exorcists, and Order personnel alike was no longer recognizable among the pooling blood.

The taut grasp on the hilt of his Sword of Exorcism only grew strained once Allen noted his skin staining a corpse-like gray, and eyes melting into liquid gold, the rage within him threatening to collapse his grip on reality. And Allen's only respite was the knowledge that his own mind and soul had withstood Neah's "inevitable" takeover. He'd made a promise, and he wouldn't let anyone get in the way of that. And so, memory by painful memory, he'd eroded away what little was left of the Fourteenth Noah, until the only thing that was left of him was the Noah itself; something dark and sinister, but incomplete. Enough to taint Allen with its darkness, but not enough swallow him up in its hole of lunacy and rage.

But now, he was quite close to tipping over the edge.

The rotting stench of blood and decay was like a constant slap to the face. In the back of his head, Allen knew that it was among this slaughter that his treasured comrades had tragically befallen to, but if he accepted it now, he would break. There would be nothing of him left. He'd fought so hard, just for them. But now, it was too late. (There was no one left to fight for, after all.)

In this moment, when everything was slowly and painfully carved out from within him only to leave behind a hollow shell, Allen could close his eyes and paint each of their faces within his thoughts, back to when they were happier and full of hope. The world had been so much brighter. And he desperately yearned to seize it back. So desperate. But the gaping hole in his chest only continued to strain wider, its edges raw and tender.

They were all gone.

Just. Like. Mana.

"AAGGHHHHHH!"

Falling to his knees, Allen let loose a bloodcurdling shriek as his world collapsed around him, hands fisting and beating at the ground. He became soaked in red, but could only continue to scream and cry, even after his voice became raw with strain. It felt as if he'd gargled glass or sand, but still he continued to scream, releasing the pent up rage and agony within him.

Finally, he quieted into strangled, breathless sobs, tears tumbling down his ash-colored cheeks.

"Please," he mouthed, voice nonexistent, "Please don't leave me."

The skies, once ablaze with sweltering colors of molten lava, had steadily darkened, casting a gloom over the massacre and concealing it within its familiar shadows. Allen yearned to be swallowed up with them. To join them. Why did it have to be him that was left behind? It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Choking on yet another sob, Allen could only tremble, desperate to rid himself of the void threatening to swallow him whole. But the tears could not abate his heartache.

They only left him feeling emptier.

"Allen?"

A beat of silence.

Could it be?

Swallowing thickly, Allen craned his head, and amidst the gloom, he recognized the familiar figure—instantly, the rage consumed him like a roaring ocean, waves of pure hatred crashing and clawing at him, making him seethe. How… how dare they?!

Lips curling into a snarl, Allen rose to his feet, hand reaching out and drawing his sword out once more, Crown Clown fluttering around him and ready to follow his orders. It didn't matter that he was tainted with the memory of a Noah. It didn't matter that he was the last one standing. For the first time, Allen yearned to kill. To slaughter every single Noah who'd dared touch his family. And if they killed him in the process, so be it. He had nothing left to lose.

He didn't notice when Road took a hesitant step back. But he did notice when the Millenium Earl himself stepped forward, and despite the massive, sinister grin, a trail of tears spilled from his dark, gold eyes. A trembling hand reached out towards him, and the Earl murmured, "N-Neah~?"

"Millenie, that's not Neah," Road whispered beside him.

The Earl did not heed her words, and continued to gaze longingly at Allen. He took a step forward—only for his gut to be met with the razor-sharp blade of Allen's sword. No one interfered as he viciously rammed and twisted his sword into the First Noah, teeth gritted and a fierce glower set firmly in place. Ruthlessly, Allen slid his sword back out, coldly watching as the Earl slammed into a pool of blood and remains not belonging to himself.

The gathered Noah didn't seem keen on attempting to avenge their leader. But Allen was too numb to question it. And the only Noah who made a move towards the Earl was Road. Daintily, she kneeled beside him, resting his head on her lap. "It's better this way," she whispered, "You can finally rest, Millenie. The memory of Adam shall be inherited by someone else. You can finally join Neah, wherever he may be." Road then turned her attention towards Allen. "Join us, Allen. You may have defeated Neah, but what can you possibly do against the rest of us?"

"Excuse me?" Allen's voice was nothing but a guttural rasp; a result of his earlier screams.

Gently caressing the First Noah's features, Road murmured, "Neah may be gone, but he renounced his Noah to you. And once Millenie is gone, his Noah memories will rejoin Neah's. Their halves make up the whole of Adam's memories. You're the next Millenium Earl, Allen. You are the First Noah, now."

The dread and fear engulfed him in a blanket of ice.

"No. No," he rasped, stumbling back.

"Don't fight it," Road spoke softly, meeting his gaze with bright, molten gold eyes that gleamed in the dark. "If anything, do it for him."

Horrified, Allen could only watch, frozen, as Road grasped the Earl's face and peeled it off, as easy as any Akuma snapping off their disguise. And what lay beneath was the familiar face of a man that Allen once called Father.

Dropping to his knees, Allen cried and shrieked, "NOOOOOOO!"

A/N: Sorry about that, I was just in the mood to write something angsty. Though I was tempted to end it with him trying to commit suicide, but I think I'll instead leave it to your imagination. Please let me know your thoughts in a review!(: