All he can hear is his blood pumping, the crowd roaring, his mind screaming the words "sentenced to death" over and over again. His heart is in his throat, his knees are shaking. He's trying to stay calm, trying to retain his dignity, but it's getting harder by the second and he feels like he's being crushed, squeezed slowly and surely by the heaviness of those three words.
Logan knows he doesn't deserve any less. He knows he was a tyrant, a ruthless leader who oppressed millions of innocent people in the name of power. He knows that 'preparation' is no real excuse, that there were other ways he could have prepared for the coming darkness. He's a terrible man and a coward and he knows it.
He's afraid. All he can do is squeeze his eyes shut and block out the world around him because he's afraid. They're cheering, they want him dead, his own brother wants him dead. No one wants him smearing this country anymore. A revolution isn't complete until the king's head rolls.
They're taking him out now, and he's going willingly, accepting his fate. His brother was always the better choice for the throne and he knows it. He knows there's nothing he can do, that death will be a welcome end to this performance called life.
He's standing in the courtyard, a dozen guns pointed at his chest and he's scared, he's bleeding terrified but he knows it's what he deserves, what he's earned. His breath is ragged, his heart is beating like a drum, faster and faster and he imagines what the bullets will feel like when they rip through his flesh, when he's lying there cold and the life is draining from his eyes and-
A dozen rifles fire and he goes deaf, the rising tempo of his heart stops, everything slows to a crawl. He's falling now. He's on his knees, staring at the ground through lidded eyes and all he can see is blood, his blood, and he feels nothing. The world spins and he falls backwards, slumps back over the stairs and feels relief. It's over, the world is fading. Albion is gone, his brother is gone, the darkness in Aurora is gone, he is gone.
The king is dead.