Crimson. The color of pasta sauce, of my brother's tomatoes, and one of the colors of my tricolor flag. A color that's part of my everyday life.
I never want to see it again.
It fills my vision, staining the once-pure white floors, furniture, walls.
It stains the uniforms of my friends.
How many more times will I fail? How many more times must I see this flood of red that obscures my sight? When will this cycle end?
No matter how many times I try, I never succeed. The color I once loved so much continuously flows from my friends, taking their lives with it.
I want it to stop. I want to win. I want them to get out. I don't care if I lose my life in the process; I just want to stop seeing the red that flows from their bodies. I want to stop seeing their eyes glaze over, falling shut with their final breath.
Germany, Prussia, Japan, everyone… They all died. Again. They left me alone once more, alone with the vile color that coats the ground beneath my feet.
Once more, I will turn back time. Once more, I will attempt to save them. And undoubtedly, once more, I will watch them stain this mansion with their scarlet blood.
But maybe, just maybe, I will save them. Maybe this time, I will be crowned victorious. This time, I might finally stop the relentless flood of crimson.
That is, the flood of crimson from everyone but myself.
I have to die to save them. I know that. And I deserve it.
I brought them here. I started the slaughter. I caused for this all to happen. I deserve to pay for my mistakes.
They've died for me over and over again. Now, it's my turn to die for them.
And maybe, just maybe, I will finally stop the infinite tide of crimson.