There wasn't anything in particular he'd had to do once he got back to his quarters. On the contrary, there was nothing to do at all but he had been ordered to come here, to 'get some rest' and to let his mind try to recover from what had happened that day because 'I know you consider yourself a strong person, Tieria, but this has affected you most of all.' It all seemed so empty, now.
He'd come in, the door had shut behind him with a mechanical 'click' but he hadn't taken another step further. Hadn't moved. It all seemed so empty, emptier than usual even though that man hadn't been in this room more than a couple of times. It was hollow, sterile and so cold that it made Tieria shudder, made him move from his spot one foot in front of the door.
The crew had been instructed it was to be 'life as usual' because there were still so many people out there they had to fight and obstacles they had to overcome- this was just one of them, wasn't it?- so in an effort to adhere to this protocol despite the mental trauma that was afflicting him, the violet-haired man raised two fingers to his throat and began to pull down the zipper of the flight suit.
He was still wearing it, of course, because there had been no time to change since they'd recovered their units and let out their mutual grief, the latter obviously taking precedence before uniform. Right now, it was a layer he wanted to shed- for, even though he was part of this plan, where had it said that man had to die for all of this? Eyes snapping shut for a moment, it was only when he took another step forward, shrugging the top half of the uniform down to his torso that he saw the communications terminal on his desk was flashing red.
A message?
Who would be sending him a communicae at this sort of time—especially when the only people able to contact him were on the Ptolemy themselves?
A slight frown creased his brow as he reached out, index finger hitting the 'replay' button on the screen after which he turned around once more, intent on removing his suit and then, maybe, he'd reply to whatever this was. Some people had no sense of time, or place.
"Tieria."
Tieria froze.
"'TIERIA, HELLO! TIERIA, HELL-!' Oi, oi, Haro, I'm trying to record something—c'mon, go over there for a minute— good."
It only took a split second for the Virtue pilot to spin around on his heel, his expression a beautiful mix of shock and disbelief. Lockon?
"This is… kind of weird, huh? I don't do this sort of thing often, as you can tell. I guess I've just never thought that talking to an inanimate object was very normal—of course, I mean the communicator, not you-!"
There was an almost imperceptible tremble in the frame of the man watching the image of a ghost on the screen, his knees buckling slightly as he fell downwards to land on the edge of the sterile white covers of the bed.
"But, I know you're a busy person, so I'll get to the point. When Sumeragi gave us this mission plan, I sort of… got this feeling, y'know? That, perhaps I wasn't going to make it back with the rest of you. It's complicated and you'd admonish my reasons for what I have in mind, anyway- always so logical and collected, huh?- but I hope that maybe, in some way, you can understand."
Gloved fingers began to bunch tightly in the cotton of the duvet.
"I'm recording this before I go out into the battle- Haro has been given instructions to relay this message to you, should I not return. Breaking the code on the door was no easy feat, but I admire your tenacity, Tieria. I can also appreciate you want to stop me from going out there after what happened last time, but I've told you already that it wasn't your fault, and neither was this, okay? I chose this of my own free will, and… I'm sorry."
The image on the screen laughs quietly as a small choking noise emits from the man on the bed, his frame tense.
"Sorry for so many things, you couldn't even imagine. I suppose right now, you'd be telling me I was 'unfit to be a Meister', or something along those lines, huh? Letting my wish for vengeance get the better of me, I should be more ashamed, but… this is something I have to do. Even at the ultimate cost. I guess I'm a bigger idiot than you originally thought."
Wet patches appear on the legs of the violet pilot suit, slowly multiplying in number. There's a fuzzy beeping noise in the background of the video and the image distorts a bit, rectifying itself a moment later.
"—it appears it's almost time for me to make my entrance. Look. I just wanted to send you this to tell you- don't blame yourself. Working with you and being in Celestial Being was, well. An experience of a lifetime, wasn't it? Live on, Tieria. Change the worl—"
Suddenly, the transmission cuts out in a barrage of radio static and Haro's cries of 'DYNAMES, SORTING! DYNAMES SORTING!'- but it falls upon deaf ears, or at least, ears that were no longer receptive to hearing.
Hunched over in a fetal position on the edge of the bed frame, the Virtue pilot trembles as the communications terminal turns itself off, plunging his quarters into darkness once more.
Somehow, that darkness felt more than literal.