Author's Note: This was neglected for a long time because of writer's block and other stressful things, but at least it's now done. Sorry for the wait, guys. I suck at times like those. x.x

August Summer is now over. This is the third part to the story, and let me tell you now, most of it isn't pretty at all. Solid Snake gets more and more crazed as time passes by. This is the longest chapter in the series, and was incredibly hard to write. However, I'm so pleased with it that it's just made me happier than before, although the story is nowhere near happy. This has loads of Snake x Luiginess, so please be warned before reading.

Except more from me later on when my exams are done. And perhaps, just perhaps, 'Within the Cardboard Box' may receive a rather... special... chapter soon...


He was... flying away.

Luigi was flying away into the distance - leaving the doomed ones behind in Subspace.

And you know something? He looked so unbearably happy, happy at last in death, that I couldn't stop myself falling to my knees and crying for him. Wept for damn near an hour, I bet. A sign of weakness, my superiors might have said with disdain back where I originally came from; mercenaries don't cry, right? They don't show emotions. Even when they feel like their heart is breaking, they should just get on with their mission and hopefully be able to forget about it later on.

Well, there aren't any superiors for me to go back to. And this wasn't anything I could ever forget. Otacon might have comforted me, but he's gone. This is no mission - at least in one of those you can kid yourself that you're only doing your part, and there are always going to be factors you can't control. At least you can take the blame off your shoulders. I went to Luigi's shelter of my own will, to try to assure myself that I could rescue someone and love them - but I couldn't do even that. Screw the mission, screw all I was ever taught - I suppose all those emotions made me lose control as soon as I saw him hanging there, completely lifeless. It was just so sudden; I don't think I've cried so hard in my life.

Luigi was the only thing I wanted to protect from this cruel world; he was the only being I'd loved in the romantic sense. Even with all my training, I couldn't save him. You'd think that after all those years of fighting and killing, your heart would harden and your emotions would dry up, right? Well, I wasn't like that. I was surprised at myself and my own ability to cry. I'd thought I lost it years ago. I couldn't believe he'd left me, just like that, without so much as a goodbye or a note.

After all that, I got up and freed him from the rope. He looked so happy and peaceful in my arms that I had to fight back my tears again. But you know something strange? He never turned into a trophy. I think that was because of the lack of the Shadow Bugs. Either that, or - do I dare to say it? - because his death was due to suicide. Being turned into a trophy after death is the norm in this world. No mess to clean up. No body left rotting. Neat, eh? That's the 'natural' way of dying in this place. But Luigi... being as alone as he was, and being as depressed, his death was nothing that could be called 'natural'. That was probably why he stayed as he was, a cold shell of the person he once had been, breathless and lifeless. I looked at him closely for a couple of minutes after cutting the rope and holding him - despite Luigi's claim that he was twenty-two years old, judging by his looks he could have been even younger. He was hardly more than a boy. But I would never really know.

I could have just left him there. But I couldn't do that. So that's what I did for the past few days. I stayed here to stand watch over his body, to calm me down, to at least comfort myself with the notion that he didn't suffer long.

I stood vigil over him for two days. I moved him into his room, laid him out on the bed, pulled a chair over and that was just it. I talked to him, touched his cold cheek, held his hand - I told him that I'd longed for his company, that I'd grown to love him during that short time. Luigi lay there, his hands softly resting on his chest, unable to hear me or answer - but it didn't matter much. He was finally near me; I could touch him and see that he was real instead of a mere figment of my imagination. I talked softly of all the things we could have done together, and how it could never happen now.

As depressing as it all was, I think that helped my mind ease just a little.

Luigi was dressed in his best as always, and I could see that he had washed and shaved before his death. With the prim appearence, and one soft, beautiful smile on his lips, he could have been sleeping. Of course if you tried to lift him, his neck would have lolled back in a rather grotesque manner; but I have to emphasize my point again anyway. He was a delicate creature even in death; I'd never seen such a beautiful thing in my life. Had he been alive, and had I rescued him in time - why, it would have been just us, lying together in the bed in silence - not caring twopence about the chaos and despair above us. Yeah. Just me and him, not worrying about anything, wrapped around each other... and us just lying there.

Did I do anything else? Not really. Just laid him out and watched over him. But I did do something - something that would be so innocent at first glance, but what most would consider forbidden contact between two men. I kissed him once, on the lips, biding him farewell and wishing him eternal peace; I wanted him to feel that I loved him. That was all.

I didn't eat much during those two days. Nor did I really do much else apart from talking, bending down to sleep whenever I felt exhausted and stroking Luigi's hair between my fingers while I talked half to him and half to myself. I could have left earlier, but I didn't do that. I couldn't have done that. It was still a shock, knowing that he was never going to talk to me again, and I wanted to let myself calm down a little. Without letting myself accept his death to a certain degree (at least), I probably wouldn't have managed to grasp my bearings out there.

So what did I do after the two days, I hear you ask. The truth is that I just wanted to stay there. There were provisions available in that shelter as well, so technically, I could have stayed quite comfortably in that hideout without developing any problems. But if I had stayed longer, I knew deep inside that I wouldn't have been able to bear it, because-

Because what?

Because I was afraid. Although I was devastated by Luigi's death, a small part of me was envious of him; because he freed himself from this cruel world and I couldn't. If I'd stayed any longer, I don't know what I might have done. I might have killed myself, in a similar fashion to Luigi, and what would have happened to me then? No one was going to cut the rope for me, don't you agree?

And you know what... I was scared. Scared of dying. Scared that every breath I took would be my last. But at the same time, I was feeling frightened by the concept of life; the fact that I could even be left alone, all by myself, in this hellish world. Scared that I would no longer have anyone left in my life.

Scared of being the sole survivor. That's it. I didn't want to die, but I didn't want to live either - not like this.

But I left the shelter after stocking up on more provisions. I felt quite guilty, taking stuff from Luigi's hideout - even though he wouldn't have minded anyhow - it just felt like I was disrespecting the dead. And yet I had to do it, for my own survival. I also packed some of Luigi's minor belongings in my backpack (his hat was one of them), just to keep myself reminded of him. There was a photo of him in his bedroom and I took that as well. Stealing from the dead, huh - it certainly wasn't the first time I've done it, for I had gone through dead soldiers' pockets before in an attempt to find any relavent information, but this was the first time I felt like I should have from the very beginning. I felt ashamed and disgusted at myself for doing so, but I just couldn't help myself because I had needed Luigi so damn much. Now that he was gone, his belongings were the only things that I could take with me.

What did I do with his body? Well, I didn't give him a burial. I wasn't going to bury him in that corrupted soil, nor could I afford to with the Subspace Army around. No, what I did was to simply leave him there, lying on his bed, neat and dignified. After suffering so much, it was what he would have wanted.

... That was my way of letting one-sixth of the population go in peace. Yeah.

So this is what I'm doing now. Walking back to my hideout. Luigi's shelter will now remain sealed for ever, lasting for thousands of years until the metal structures corrode and break down, burying all inside. But then, what would have happened to us? We'd be long dead by then. I doubt that even Tabuu will last that long.

Somehow, I should say, the road back to my hideout feels a lot longer and a lot more dangerous than before. And perhaps, just perhaps, I want it to be like that. If I were attacked right now, I wouldn't put up a fight - what's the point anyway?

Today's the twenty-third of August. Ninety-three days since Tabuu took over, and three days since my last entry. It's also been one day since I left Luigi's bunker for my own. It's not far at all - a few dozen miles, and it's not too much a distance to walk - but oh, sometimes even that distance is so long.


...

This is it. This is the end.

I'm back in my hideout, on the twenty-fourth of August, ninety-four days since Tabuu's takeover.

I got back and I found that I screwed up again.

You see, I didn't actually notify anybody (let alone Luigi) of my departure. I hadn't left any messages for the survivors to read online. I'd been gone six days, and the others - who knew nothing of my quest to find Luigi - wouldn't have heard from me in all that time.

So I logged in as fast as possible, trying to explain that I was in fact away for a little while, had just gotten back, and how sorry I was. But I wasn't in a casual setting like I would have been in half a year ago, get it? It wasn't just a matter of saying that I was away for a while and ending it there. I was a survivor. If they lost contact with me... it would have been too terrible to imagine. In their perspective, I would have been the first survivor to disappear from the network - meaning death.

But when I logged in and checked the chatrooms...

... only one person remained.

Captain Falcon.

I was biting my lip so hard that I bled when I saw that. Everyone should have been online at that time. So why was only Captain Falcon there? I hurriedly sent him a request saying that I wanted to talk; he responded within seconds, and then we were talking through video screens.

From the very beginning, I could see that there was something very, very wrong with him.

His helmet was off and lying askew on the ground. He was slouched on his chair, his features pained and twisted, and his skin seemed pale and pasty - like he hadn't been nourished for a while. He was also breathing rather erratically from what I could hear from the speakers. It reminded me exactly of the symptoms of Shadow Bug infestation. But his eyes lit up when he noticed me, and that gave me hope.

He told me that he'd thought that I had perished during the last few days. I apologized for my mistake, said that I had gone to rescue Luigi - but had failed. Captain Falcon at least had the decency to be delicate about the issue, and carefully asked me whether Luigi had managed to survive. I had to say no, of course, although it still pained me greatly. When asked whether he had gone in comfort, I responded... well...

... that he'd looked peaceful enough. That was it.

Whilst this conversation was going on, Captain Falcon suddenly began to cough violently - and I could see that he was indeed very ill. I told him to take a rest, that we would talk later, but he brushed off that remark as if he had never heard me and began talking about something else.

That's right. The other three survivors.

According to him, I was the one who had disappeared off the network first. Luigi had been online a day before his death (and the day I had departed my shelter), Falcon told me, and he had only stayed for a few minutes before logging off in tears. Falcon didn't know why at the time and would never find out; but I understood. Luigi had seen that I had not come online, and in his already-suicidal and depressed state, had immediately assumed the worst. Apparently none of the survivors (excepting Luigi) were too concerned that first day, dismissing my absence as something trivial.

But the second day was what pushed them over the edge. Luigi, as you would have figured out, did not come online. I didn't either, because at that time I was too busy weeping over his dead body. Now let us just put ourselves in the others' point of view - in the space of two days, two survivors out of six go missing. What does that mean in a desperate situation like this? Less support, a drastically decreased chance of survival... and along with that, a sense of pure panic and doom that they're next to go. It's no wonder everyone panicked.

Ness and Lucas, being only young boys, already had accumulated an immense amount of stress they didn't know how to deal with. When they assumed that Luigi and I wouldn't be returning, apparently both just lost it there and then. They both were in hysterics, trying desperately to believe that we would come back, but at the same time believing that we wouldn't. All that stress just exploded - Captain Falcon told me that Lucas was trying to reason with Ness, asking him to 'wait a few days' and give us time. Ness wasn't having it. In full view of Pit and Captain Falcon, the boys started a fight - that soon degenerated into a bloody brawl. Soon, both started using their psychic powers, and within seconds their connection was cut - Captain Falcon never saw them again. Being psychic doesn't help desperation and anger any more than being normal does, it seems. Perhaps even if I'd managed to bring Luigi to my shelter, we would have ended up like that. He was never very stable, and to be honest, neither am I.

How swiftly our best hopes died! Within two or three days, Captain Falcon and Pit were left alone, unaware of my survival, suddenly frightened and desperate. Both were trying to suss out what had happened, and trying to make plans. Even with all of us gone, I don't doubt that they eventually would have sorted out something - had not Pit gone insane.

Pit was locked in the World Net station, I've stated already - but Tabuu decided to eradicate Skyworld as a potential threat during the time I was away, it seems, and dragged everything into Subspace. So essentially, Pit had gotten nowhere, and he became trapped in Subspace as well. Not to mention that his supplies had nearly run out by that time. What with the knowledge that he once again became just another trapped Smasher, his draining oxygen and intense despair, I guess he just went insane. Apparently, he was thrashing around violently, screaming and begging to be let out. Not even Captain Falcon could calm him. Falcon even tried to calm Pit down by saying that he would come and rescue him, even though that wasn't plausible. It didn't work. Pit's connection was cut and he never came online again - and that was two days ago.

I'd barely taken it all in when Falcon started coughing again. And this time, he was coughing up blood.

He smiled weakly as I anxiously called to him, inquiring whether he was all right; all stupid questions, I know. Falcon was obviously not all right. I don't even know what prompted me to say something so idiotic.

Drawing in a rather raw, jagged breath, he told me that he had probably underestimated the power of the Shadow Bugs. He had built his shelter much too shallow, and now they were slowly getting to him. Within days he would be a trophy, and he knew it all too well. Hell, I knew it too well. But unlike him, I didn't want to believe it. I didn't want to be the last person alive. It had barely been three weeks since we all met; how could it just end like this?

He didn't offer any last words or anything. He didn't even attempt to convince me that I would be all right. But then, if he had done so, it would have been terribly cruel for me; it would have made everything even more real, even more worse. However, Falcon did tell me one last thing (in a voice tinged with regret) - while Pit had been thrashing around in agony and despair, he had dislodged something in the main control rooms of the Station. Captain Falcon didn't know what precisely had been dislodged, nor could he ask Pit in his delusional state; but he could roughly guess. The main network cable had been twisted out of place. Within days, even the World Net would be inaccessible, and there would be nobody left to fix it.

We said our final goodbyes rather blankly. As if we didn't know it would be the very last time. He wished me well, and I did also, even though I knew too well that he wouldn't last three days in that condition. But when he signed off, saluting me to the very end, I leaned back and shut my eyes, grasping my head.

It's all over.

My worst nightmare has come true. Within days Captain Falcon will have suffered a horrible, messy death from the Shadow Bugs, and his hideout will be slowly consumed by Subspace as those bugs spread throughout the place. That will leave only me remaining. I've thought of it over and over again, for the past three hours, agonizing over what to do and what can be done in the future. The thought of all those Smashers, now all dead and gone (or left without any means of contact) in their respective hideouts, makes me sick; all those Smashers and the plans we'd made and the things we'd talked about and a hope that had never really existed in the first place...

... It's all gone now, and those people now lie inside their bunkers, their bodies cold and heavy.

Leaving me here.

So what'll become of me? Must I remain here, in this empty world, this doomed space all by myself? Solitude was a natural factor in my life, but not even the strongest of mercenaries can withstand this amount of solitude. It's impossible. When I think of Luigi, and what I could have had, everything falls apart. This is where everything become skewed, where the pieces don't fit together, and I am lost in my own despair.

Perhaps I was doomed to this fate from the very beginning. I had thought that Luigi was the answer to my problems, that he was my saviour - but what use is thinking about that now? My saviour is dead, lying out with his hands on his chest in a bed miles away from my hideout. He will never awaken. Some of his possessions I have with me now, but can I hold only on to them for the rest of my life? Can I stay here, deep under the ground, with the only proof of my life and love embodied in those things?

Sink or swim, I tell myself. Sink or swim, Snake. And it'd be unfair to say that I'm not trying, because I am. I'm trying to stay above the surface - but no matter how much I try, something always pushes me down.

I can't keep up.

I have nothing left.

So what must I do now? I can't stay here, surrounded by Luigi's possessions all around me, as much as they offer temporary comfort. I feel Luigi everywhere; he's gone, ever so far away from me, but he's part of everything I brought over. His hat once adorned his head, fitting snugly around the soft brown locks. That's one example. And his photo - without it I wouldn't have been able to recall his sad, faraway smile, his blue eyes, his voice. Already his image inside my head is fading. Only what few things he had - and what I have now - serve as a reminder of whom I had talked to, whom I had touched mere days ago and whom I love still.

I know what I must do. And you have to help me on my way, Luigi. Bring me salvation. Give me peace. Help me to get where I need to, my love.

Solid Snake - the last Smasher alive - is the end. Let me leave all this behind. This world of Smashers is now doomed; and I no longer want any part in it.

I'm going back...

... back to when everyone was alive...

... back to when happiness reigned supreme.

Yes...

...

... back to that sunny August summer...


An unusually light breeze swept over the forest. The silence, although the forest was quiet most of the time, appeared to be heavier than usual; not even the swarms of Shadow Bugs passed by the deserted area.

A figure came walking through the trees.

He was a tall man, with a set face and a blue bandanna tied around his head. His paces were slow and unconcerned, and as he walked, he was smiling almost blankly to himself. Twigs rustled under his feet as he made his way through the dark, deep woods - had there been anyone to see him, they would have thought that he was perfectly aware of himself and where he was going.

This couldn't have been further away from the truth.

This man carried only a small shoulder bag. There seemed to be almost nothing in it, save for something square; he occasionally felt for the object, and smiled in satisfaction whenever he assured himself that he still had said possession in hand.

After what seemed like eternity, he stopped at a clearing.

He took the square object from his bag, tossing the latter away into the trees. There was only him and his one possession there at that moment, and he stood for a long time, gazing at the object for a long time. It was a wooden picture frame, containing a photo of the only person that this man had ever been sure of in his life. He ran his fingers over the glass for a while, tracing the contours of the photo, murmuring something to himself. He appeared not to realize that the Shadow Bugs were closing in.

But then he looked up from the photo, his silvery-grey eyes full of unspoken sadness. He gazed around himself with a sad smile - and then, closing his eyes, he looked to the sky and let out one final breath as the Shadow Bugs swarmed onto him. He did not struggle nor scream.

When they were gone, nothing was left of the man - except for a small, golden-base trophy that lay facedown on the ground, and the photo frame. The glass had broken during the fall, and the remainder of it shone for a moment in the sudden flash of thunder that alighted the forest clearing. The heavy silence was broken, with the few members of the Subspace Army leaping out of their posts and checking that they were in no danger.

But then the flash was gone, and then there was silence once more.