High angst warning in this chapter, but it's needed I believe.
Chapter 3, Those left behind
Nothing means anything anymore. There's nothing left for me, I'm nothing but a failure. I failed both of them… and… that won't matter either, soon. All that matters is my hatred. I will satisfy that, and then I'll be no more either.
I will not kill you, Gestahl. I'll take from you what you took from me. Killing you is too simple.
A pity I can't do the same to Kefka, but at least I can try to kill him instead. Maybe I won't survive, perhaps he'll be the one granting me the void. To fool him to give me the blessing of death, fool him to release me after I had my revenge. How bittersweet.
That is nothing but perfection.
*
Am I all that's left now? Am I and Figaro, my poor Figaro, the only hope? For we can hide, they can't reach us below the sand. We are safe…
We are nothing but a last fraction of hope, Figaro's people are the Returners now. But… we can do naught against Gestahl and Kefka. We can't reach them. So all we can do is sabotage work against their ground units…
To the very core, I know though… we are insects and we will eventually be swatted if no miracle occur. We don't have magic, no flying units. And sooner or later we won't have time to dive either. Sooner or later our squads will be caught.
I know this. But I'll still lead them. I won't sit in my underground castle and rot, shivering with fear.
Yes, I am afraid. For when I fall, it might be all over.
But that will never stop me from fighting, because then it'll definitely be over.
*
There is no hope. I hath failed again, and we lost all our friends. But…
My last comrade… we cannot give up, what sayeth thou? If no hope is in sight, shall we give in to grief or fight to the bitter end?
I say we fight, for those we loved and lost. Art thou with me?
*
I don't know about my race mates, or my big muscle freak of a friend. I don't even know about my human friends, except you, the last one. I see no hope either, but kupo… I'm with you.
*
You… blasted… bastards. You demons' abominations. I cannot curse you enough for what you have done, I cannot hate you enough. Not even death would you allow me, no, you had to spare me… save my life for one last triumph of yours, to finally claim victory over the world's fighters; my friends.
You haven't won yet, not over them… even though… you have defeated me. Your trump cards… you know well that if you didn't have them I'd have fled through death long ago. You don't try to stop me, except for with that chaining knowledge that holds me locked in your grip. So I cannot flee.
Who is still alive, who died? I only know Edgar still fights… but if he survived, perhaps…?
Yet my hope is so frail, I'm about to give up.
No, I mustn't.
… So far away now… will I ever see your smile?
I… mustn't give up.
*
They refuse to give in, those fools in Figaro. Don't they understand that they can't stand against me in the long run? Edgar is such an idiot, but I guess he's only trying to slow the inevitable.
I wonder how many others survived the crash, though? I shouldn't have let Kefka attack, he's the worst fool of them all.
Heh, he's not even a fool, he's a loud, clumsy paw.
I wonder if he needs another dose again soon… sometimes he needs more than usual, now could be such a time after all the hard work with the research he's been doing.
He's irreplaceable.
Luckily.
People fear him, and that is powerful. Still I wouldn't turn down an opportunity to feed him to a pack of leafers with rabies.
I've got time, Returners, and I know who you are. You'll be found, and then I'll crush you completely before throwing you all to the beasts of the Coliseum. In due time.
*
It's a lie. It's all a lie, a lie. But I guess you wouldn't understand, pretties. No, you don't understand, how could you… but it's a lie, do you hear me?
No, you don't.
Heh, the lie… it's that… it's idiotic.
I'm among the winners, understand? And still… it doesn't last as long. I'm bored.
You don't hear me, so I talk to myself instead. How stupid.
I'm insane, I'm supposed to be stupid. Of course I'm insane.
But… it's a lie… I don't need… anyone… who's… listening. It's a lie. A lie.
I hate thinking, my head hurts again. I need another dose… right now.
What was the lie again? On which side was it?
Stop thinking…
*
… I'm…
… I'm nothing but a sentimental fool. There's nothing I could ever do to mend what he broke.
But… I don't want it to be broken, I wish… I wish I had him back. Yes, I must be the biggest fool to ever see the sun.
When did I do that last? I hardly remember how it was… too afraid, too ashamed to come out, even though nobody can recognize me in these clothes.
I… I can't help it. He destroyed my life, he took it from me, he… he made it so that I ended up here, in this lonely hell.
I miss him.
I wish I could hear his voice and that piercing laughter of his again.
So let it be that I am a fool, dreaming of the unreachable. I still miss him for the part of me that he forever will be.
He'd probably kill me at first sight… but… I still wish that I could try to reach out to him. To hear his babbling rants that only I ever had patience to listen to. Nobody else understood what it meant to him, what it meant to us. Everyone eventually grew tired of him… but I loved every word and he loved having me listening.
I even enjoyed all the equations he worked with, he could solve math problems that would knot any normal brain. Maybe because his mind always was a little twisted, not so that he was insane, just different. No, he was never insane! People thought so because he was eccentric and loud, but he wasn't insane. His mind was always like the sharpest blade, no matter what it seemed to be. The thing was, he found it funny to shock others; shake them a bit. That's not madness, but I seemed to be the only one to see that.
And then he broke it…
What is he now? I know he's still alive, I'd know if he was dead… does he even remember what we had, or has he pushed it away?
I miss him so.
