He finds peace, at last, at the bottom of the ocean. It has never been so quiet, or so calm. There is no redemption here. No escape, and so he cannot save anyone, cannot fight for anyone. He has never been so free.
He has dreamed of this, he thinks, in between golden dreams of her and nightmare memories of blood and teeth and joy. These had been his favorites.
There are fish that swim past his face sometimes. He gives them names as if he recognizes them.
All of them are named Connor.
He has never screamed so loudly.