"Excited to finally return to your duties?" Jade asked, on the morning of Peony's departure. He was sure his friend had made a full recovery a good 48 hours ago, but humored him, once again.

Peony shrugged, "Empire won't run itself, right?"

His friend nodded in agreement, occupied with replacing the linens on the bed. There was an unmistakable tension now that the illusion they were able to take shelter in for the past week was about to fall apart. They both had their own lives to live, but he couldn't just leave it like this. "Jade..."

"Yes?" Jade replied, straightening up, but his question went unanswered as Peony crossed the distance between them, catching him in a hurried kiss. It had an edge of desperation and recklessness- he certainly had underestimated his momentum, causing them to topple over onto the freshly made bed. Still, he did not let go. To his surprise, neither did Jade. In a moment of confusion he had succumbed to the heat of Peony's lips and the weight of his body, pressed against his.

If the idea of kissing Jade was foreign, then Jade kissing back was practically alien. But he was and Peony was not complaining. He only feared it would end the moment he pulled away and those roaming hands would push him away again. So, he held on for dear life, feeling the sinew and muscle through the coarse fabric of Jade's shirt. He had to know, before he could go any further, exactly what Jade was-

"Peony!" Jade hissed, finally able to breathe again, only to have to stolen away as he felt the other's knee pressed firmly between his legs, triggering a frantic spark of pleasure along his nerves. So that's how it was going to be. Fingers tangled in that blond hair, he drew the other closer, close enough to feel that second pulse, not quite in sync with his own. In the back of his mind, he noticed it was just a little quicker, just as he noticed Peony's skin felt just that much hotter beneath his hands as they slipped up the back of his shirt. He remembered the feel of the that back, warm and tense and smooth.

He moved as if in a dream, barely noticing Jade shift beneath him, but definitely paying attention as those legs wrapped around his hips, moving against him in a way that evoked a pleased groan. He reciprocated in full, mouth wandering along the expanse of exposed skin as he impatiently tugged open Jade's shirt, ignoring the buttons' protests. Somehow, he expected that milky pale skin to be flawless and unbroken, since Jade carried himself in a way that made it hard to believe anyone could scar him.

But there they were, defying that carefully composed facade, the scars of battles and life. He wanted to ask where this one came from, as his lips traced the pale crescent above Jade's collarbone. He wanted to know the story behind every one, because in the end, he was partially responsible for Jade's life. Just as Jade was for his.

Exposure. Jade fought the instinct to protect himself because the adrenaline of a battle and adrenaline derived from sexual stimulation was essentially the same, but the circumstances drastically different... Or were they? In many ways they were the same- the power struggle, the misunderstandings, and the tendency to lose oneself in it all...

Friction. Peony couldn't help but gasp each time Jade moved his hips, thrusting up against him, grinding mercilessly against his aching erection through his pants. Their initially uncoordinated movements began to blend together, moving as one instead of two. He was getting closer and each second burned away any will to follow rational thought.

"We shouldn't be-" Jade panted, realizing that this was indeed a Bad Idea, but unable to stop on his own.

"-Doing this?" Peony finished, having no intention at all of going along with that. If he was entitled to a selfishness in his life, regardless of when it was due to end, it was going to be this one. It was going to be Jade, his cheeks flushed and glasses askew. It was going to be his back arching as he came and the sharp exhalation that wasn't quite a moan or a cry, but infinitely more human. It was going to be him.

Even as he felt Jade shudder against him, he did not slow down until he reached his own conclusion, the white hot climax burning away his thoughts and worries, leaving only the ashes of his actions. Rolling off of him, Peony collapsed beside him on the bed, still reeling from what just happened. From what he just did. What they just did. Together.

His exhilaration quickly turned to a cold dread as he looked up to meet Jade's gaze. There was a terrible absence in his eyes and Peony realized he had gone too far. Desperately, he tried to put the pieces back together, but before he could say anything, Jade spoke first.

"I think you should go," he said, about to rebutton his shirt before he realized only three were left.

"Why?"

Jade clenched his fist, trying to proceed as calmly as he could. But sometimes, sometimes Peony was such a stubborn selfish bastard and didn't even know it and it took all of his self control not to point it out. That wasn't even the worst of it. The worst part was the wanting. Peony couldn't know how much he had wanted that, wanted him, because then it would all fall apart. Better to let Peony think he hated him for what he did, instead of hating him for not doing it sooner.

"Because," he started, looking him straight in the eye. "You are the emperor."

"You know I don't give a damn about that-"

"Well I do!" Jade couldn't remember the last time he raised his voice. It felt good, in a very primal way, to shout even though he could be heard just fine in a normal tone. "And you should too. You have a position, a responsibility, an empire for goodness sake, and maybe you should start acting like it."

Peony just sat there, stunned. Jade was right, as he always was. It didn't make rejection hurt any less. Rejection. What else could he expect from Jade, after selfishly forcing him open, laying bare what he had no right to see. But he couldn't bring himself to regret it, at all, and that was the worst. He couldn't even apologize because had he a chance to do it again, he would. He was the worst. What did he hope he could gain from his actions? The longer he thought about it, the more ridiculous it appeared to him. What could he offer Jade anyway? Certainly not a future or even a relationship. If anything, just a dangerous, illicit affair that would end badly no matter what. And Jade didn't need that. He deserved better than a reckless relationship.

Is this the right thing to do? All his life, this question had plagued every decision he made as a child, as a scientist, as a colonel, and as a friend. And more often than not, he never really had the time to consider the answer. But he was fairly certain right now that it was his responsibility to end this. The empire- no, Peony, needed stability, understanding, a partner who could stand equal with him on the throne. He didn't need him. He deserved more than this.

In the end, it was basic military strategy. There was no point in advancing in a situation that had no chance of victory. All one could do is minimize losses.

"You're right," Peony said softly, standing to leave. "Thank you for your hospitality. I'm sorry for intruding." His voice sounded wooden, automatic. Jade rose as well, extending a hand.

"Good luck."

He didn't take it, opting instead to just walk out without another word. It was easier that way, but honestly not by much.

Six months later

It was ironic how long it took it save the world, but how over the course of a few short months, it was teetering on the edge of destruction. He had left the city almost half a year ago, when a series of unfortunate events began to strain international relationships again. He left behind everything to stand on the front lines again, all for his country. Or was it for the man who had to sit on the throne of his empire as the edges began to curl in as if consumed by a flame?

Night had fallen and Colonel Jade Curtiss was blood splattered and knee deep in corpses, again. Friend or foe, it mattered little in death. He was climbing through the wreckage of a landship- one of several, as the great warship had been beset by the new smaller fleets that collectively halted its engines. But even at a stand still, the Ragnarok decimated its enemies.

It was simply an exercise in mutually assured destruction.

After boarding one of the least damaged scouters, and slaying its survivors- international warfare protocols had been largely ignored by both sides- he managed to access their last updated communications with Kimlasca. Apparently they were the precursor to the back up units following a day's pace away, with their goal being the subjugation of Grand Chokmah and subsequently the Malkuth Empire.

In other words, an invasion. The conflict had been earlier this morning and so he only had about half a day ahead of the main forces. Assuming they doubled their pace after losing contact with their scouts, that left merely hours between them. Hours behind. Thinking rapidly, he searched the corpse of the Ragnarok until he found an undamaged dispatch vehicle- the best he could do under the circumstances.

He hoped Grand Chokmah could do the same.

The explosions began around lunchtime. The environmental shifts of the last six months had stripped Grand Chokmah of its natural sea defense, as well as its irrigation system and basic infrastructure. In other words, it would be the easiest take over Kimlasca had seen in centuries. But not too easy, Peony hoped, as the fon canons that ringed the city's walls fired back at the attacking warships. It had taken all morning to evacuate the city- even then only a fraction of the population got out through the irrigation tunnels. Peony had made sure Guy left, though the young man was willing to stay and defend the city, he insisted he leave. Guy's allegiance was not to Malkuth and Peony refused to have him die for it.

All he had left now were the periodic reports on the siege. Minutes ago, the report had come in notifying the loss of the Ragnarok, and most likely all of the regiment on board.

He took the news silently, after all it was the fourth ship to go down. But Jade was stationed on the Ragnarok. It was strange deja vu, to receive the news of his death a second time. And like the first, he didn't believe it at first. But as the hours dragged on, it became more and more likely in his mind.

The walls fell at dusk. The last report he received made him realize this wasn't an invasion. It was a massacre. Kimlasca didn't want to annex them, they wanted to annihilate Grand Chokmah so that it would appear as if it were never there. But why? It was only a rumor, but supposedly the plague that will wipe out humanity was already in Grand Chokmah, and everyone was infected.

Funny how quickly people will latch onto an idea if it means the ones they love will live, even if it meant the death of a million strangers. He wondered what the other members of that group Jade traveled with were doing. It was unfair to blame any of them because he knew only too well that sometimes it takes more than just six individuals to hold back the inevitable. He sighed, continuing to pace in front of the throne. Outside the vaulted ceilings were muffled explosions and the never ending cries of terror. His gaze fell on the sword resting on the armrests of the throne, left by the last captain to report on the invasion. It was plain, but efficient. Designed the kill, it lay there, judging him. There was also the dagger, kept for an entirely different purpose. Its blade no more than six inches, and the hilt inlaid with silver, it also judged him.

Peony desperately tried to remember what exactly he was suppose to do at a time like this. There were significant disadvantages to being cut down by the enemy, but to take his own life seemed just as bad. Wasn't royal suicide suppose to prevent being taken as a prisoner of war? If they were all going to die anyway, he'd rather go down fighting... He laughed softly to himself. This really was the end, wasn't it?

The entire palace shook as the doors were blown apart and footsteps broke into a run up the imposing staircase. Peony Upala Malkuth IX took up the sword, and waited.

By the time Grand Chokmah came into view, the city's walls had been demolished. His precious time was slipping away like the light from the dying sunset as he detoured through the now empty irrigation tunnels. Right up ahead was the service passage into the palace. Jade hadn't bothered with being inconspicuous, especially since the blue of his uniform was darkened by copious amounts of blood. None of it his, thankfully. Not to mention it seems the palace was empty, which means the Kimlascan forces had not yet reached the palace, or just have... He burst through the door to the throne room, spear drawn, and ready for a fight.

But he was not ready for what he saw.

"Any last words from the last emperor?"

Everything was masked in a haze of pain. While proficient at combat, he was not a prodigy and after managing to take two men down, a blow to the head caught him off guard, stunning him. Apparently, Kimlasca had sent their best to dispatch of the Malkuthian emperor, and by best they meant the sadists. Makes sense, he thought dimly, finding his mind wandering to Jade. A lot of people have labeled Jade as such too.

The cords that bound him to his throne burned against his bare skin, as did the shallow cuts that scored his arms and chest. He was bleeding out, slowly. Sometime earlier the squad's captain had grasped the heavy jewel threaded in his hair and simply pulled, drawing a sharp cry of pain. Peony decided that was the last time they would hear him in pain, as he heard the jewel clatter on the floor somewhere else and the warm blood run sticky on his scalp. Someone else had forced him to drink something vile, if it was poison, it was taking its sweet time.

So, he remained silent to the man's question, wondering how much longer it was going to take. Not to long, if Jade's spirit (he certainly looked like a ghost, deathly pale in the dim light of the ruined hall and covered in blood- so the report had been true) was already here to greet him. The only curious part was why everyone else was reacting to him.

"S'just a spirit," he mumbled helpfully.

"Please be quiet, your majesty," Jade said, stepping out of the shadows. He was not a stranger to torture, to pain, to suffering. But Peony was. And to see him bound to his own throne covered in his own blood like some cruel joke, or sacrificial offering almost sent Jade over the edge. He wanted to kill everyone in that room, everyone who had laid a hand or an eye on his emperor.

But he wanted to kill them slowly, most of all, and inflict miles and miles of pain- the captain went down in a smoking heap, charred by the fiery arte he unleashed almost effortlessly. However, as much as he wanted to do that, he didn't have the time. He put aside his own anger for Peony, simply focusing on cutting down every last soldier.

It was too vivid to be a dying illusion- Jade had come back and was proceeding to slaughter everyone in the hall. His stomach twisted in fear as Jade almost disappeared in the crowd of bodies- there were so many soldiers, so many of them, Jade couldn't possibly fight them all off- there was a deafening roar as great blades of electricity instantly electrocuted a good third of the attackers. Having never seen Jade in action so closely, he finally understood the awe and fear so many held for the colonel. A devil, he heard so many whisper, and he himself had laughed off many times. A monster with no mercy, went the rumors he ignored, but now understood perfectly. Agreed with completely. And was completely and utterly grateful for.

The important thing, Jade thought as his spear went straight through the chest of an attacker, was not to let any of them leave and get reinforcements. Exhaustion pulled at his limbs, but he shook it off, refusing to waste any energy on feeling pain or fatigue and channeling it all into finishing the fight. At the end of it, there was only one left. Jade had not killed him on sight immediately, because he recognized the badge stitched to his collar. Grabbing the terrified solider, who had just seen his entire regiment massacred by one man, Jade dragged him up towards the throne.

"You're a seventh fonist, correct?" Jade asked with chilling calm, picking up the discarded dagger on the floor to cut Peony loose. The soldier nodded silently, terror saturating his wide eyed gaze.

"Then heal him."

"I c-can't..." the soldier whispered, shaking violently. "N-no one can use the seventh f-f-fonon anymore."

Jade frowned, remember why. So this is how they were repaid, for saving this ridiculous world. "Then I suppose I don't have a use for you," he said easily, spear raised-

"Jade. Stop it." Peony coughed, tasting blood. "He didn't do anything to me, he's just a medic."

"The fact he didn't do anything is all the more reason-"

"Just drop it Jade," Peony sighed.

Jade threw the soldier a cold stare, before occupying himself to binding up Peony's wounds.

"E-everyone is going to die, anyway," the Kimlascan stammered, "The p-plague is going to kill everyone if we d-don't..."

"The plague is just a piece of propaganda," Jade snapped, picking up the blue opal from the floor, a lock of blonde hair still threaded through it.

"N-no... The p-plague is here... we b-brought it," the soldier whimpered.

"Did I hear you correctly?" Jade had the medic pinned under him in a flash, a knife to his throat. "You brought the plague here? Tell me."

"We n-needed to fulfill the s-score... to bring prosperity," he gasped, trying not to think how much shorter his life was going to be if he told the truth, or vice versa. "It's in the water now... it's... a contagion..."

"I cannot believe you people," Jade hissed, eyes narrowing in disgust. "You created the plague. You deliberately inflicted it upon the innocent. Why couldn't you all listen when we went through all that trouble to-"

"Jade."

"Shut up Peony, I am trying to-"

"They made me drink something."

That something, could only be one thing. Jade's grip tightened painfully on the nameless soldier's shoulder. "There's no cure?"

He shook his head.

"How long?"

"T-twelve hours, at best."

The colonel gritted his teeth, standing back up. "You are going to leave here and report to your superiors that the emperor is dead and if you don't, I will find out and then I am fairly sure you know what will happen." He had wasted enough time. They needed to get out of here, far away, so that he could... so that he could what? What could he do?

Destroy, was all it seemed he could do, as he used the last of his fonic artes to set fire to the throne room, positive it will spread to the rest of the palace. Let there be nothing but ashes left for the Kimlascans.

Only a few miles away from the burning city, two figures slowly made their way up the grassy hills. Jade was supporting most of Peony's weight, occasionally encouraging him to just take one more step. Just one more, and then they'll be... they'll be where? Jade looked around him, the night surrounding them on all sides.

"Just a little further."

"Can we stop, Jade?" his friend pleaded, the ground spinning beneath his feet.

"We have to keep moving."

"Please." He was shivering, though the night air was still warm and he knew he was weighing Jade down. Slowing him. "I don't want to go-"

"There's a stream about twenty meters ahead. We'll take a break there," Jade interrupted, just about ready to collapse himself. But he had to keep going, even if with every step, his uniform became heavier with his own blood. He did not come away from the last fight unscathed, though he was in far better shape than Peony, who looked dead on his feet.

It seemed to take hours to cover those last twenty meters before Jade set Peony down as gently as possible in the grass. Jade disappeared for a moment before returning with a wet cloth- really, just the cleanest part of his uniform he could cut off, and began gently wiping the other's blood stained face.

"You did well back there," Peony murmured.

"I'm sorry I was late."

"They said you died.

"They've said that before, too."

Peony tried to laugh, but it just made his chest feel like it was being crushed in. It wasn't fair that it was so hard to speak. He hardly had any time left and there was still so much left to say. So much to tell Jade. He needed to tell him how grateful he was, because he wouldn't be alive if it weren't for him. Jade needed to know how sorry he was as well and that it wasn't Jade's fault at all. And he had to say that he wished he weren't so much of a coward, so he could just tell Jade how much he loved him.

But maybe, just maybe, Jade already knew. The colonel wordlessly pulled the other up, letting him rest his head in his lap, which was infinitely more comfortable than the hard ground.

"How long till dawn?" Which was Peony's way of asking, "How long do I have left?"

"Approximately an hour." Which was Jade's way of saying, "You can't leave yet."

It was so tempting to sleep, with the night breeze and Jade absently stroking his hair, and despite the chills that shook his body, he couldn't find much to complain about.

The sky was beginning to lighten, Jade noticed, the tinge of pink creeping into the horizon. If he could keep that dawn from coming, he would, if only it meant that Peony wasn't going to die. Strange how he killed almost a hundred men several hours ago without a shred of emotion, but sitting on this hill with Peony dying made his blood run cold and a lump rise in his throat. Each breath the emperor drew became shallower and Jade felt an overwhelming surge of regret, one that he had not felt the likes of since Nebilim died. If he had known this was the way things were going to be- if he believed in the Score, he might not have made the choice to force Peony out of his life that day. He thought he was keeping him safe- but apparently no one is safe from the future.

"Is that the sun?" Peony asked weakly, squinting at the weak rays of light spilling over the horizon. Luckily the city was to their backs, so the plumes of black smoke didn't obscure the view of the sunrise.

"Yes, it is."

"It's beautiful..." he trailed off, words lost to the other's mouth on his, warm and firm, lips parting and so did his own-wait, Jade's couldn't... His eyes widened in shock as he weakly tried to push the other off to no avail.

It was unfair, to take this from him, but it was all he had left. Peony's mouth tasted of blood, blood of the last emperor of Malkuth. He held Peony close, lips parting, shocked to see tears in the other's eyes. "Peony...?"

"You shouldn't have done that," he murmured, resting his head on Jade's shoulder.

"It was my decision," Jade said, arms hesitantly wrapping around the other, lightly stroking his back. Peony was shaking. He thought that if Kimlasca would go so far as to take away his future for their own prosperity... well, he'll help. He'll fulfill the last part of the closed score. If there was one man who was going to bring the plague to Kimlasca, it was going to be him.

"Thank you, for everything," Peony sighed, looking up as the sun hit Jade's face and he couldn't think of anything more beautiful than that cold pale face lit up by the sun, his last sun. Skin marred by smoke and sweat, hair tangled and the ends stiff with blood, somewhere Jade had lost his glasses... he wish he could go on looking forever, but apparently it was time to go. He felt light as cloud, and twice as likely to float away.

"My pleasure," Jade replied hoarsely, as the last emperor of Malkuth and his best and only friend, died in his arms at dawn.

The grave he dug was messy, but deep enough so night scavengers couldn't reach the body. Jade replaced the blue opal in his friend's hair, before leaving him in the ground to rest. While he wished he could leave a more significant marker, the ragged remain of his uniform jacket tied tightly around his spear would have to suffice. He wouldn't need that weapon where he was going. One sharp thrust planted it firmly in the ground as the wind picked up, that tattered blue fluttering faintly like a flag.

Twelve hours... Now I'm down to ten he thought, beginning to walk back towards the ruined city. But I am sure I can hold out a little longer than that.

Fourteen Hours Later

If he helped save the world, he was fairly sure he could end it, Jade thought as he ran for his life through the darkened streets of Baticul city. He was actually a little concerned he held out this long, and wondered if he was even carrying the contagion. However, his worries were assuaged by the same set of symptoms that had beset him a few hours ago. It was just his bad luck he had been recognized once he entered the city, almost by accident. It was the damn eyes, as always, that tipped people off. He had gained too much of a reputation, unfortunately. Luckily, the city guard that was currently in pursuit of him had no idea where he was headed. Nor would they probably understand, he thought as he drew the dagger he brought from the throne room, a serviceable piece to royal suicides. Too ostentatious for his taste, but ironically appropriate.

Something whizzed by his ear, barely missing him. So they brought in archers, now. No matter, it was only a little further ahead... Jade ran into the imposing system of metal structures that connected the city's' water source in one hub. It was all drawn from a ravine that was more like a fissure in the earth, a gaping scar of the Dawn Age. The fence around the edge was merely a precaution, though no one in their right minds would stray too close to the edge.

Did that make him insane, he wondered, as he vaulted over it, walking over casually to the very edge of the ground, to where it simply fell away into blackness. His vision blurred dangerously, as he almost collapsed from vertigo. He looked out to small crowd of soldiers on the other side of the fence, trying to find an engineer to open it for them. Clearing his throat, he took a moment to address them, since they ran all the way out here to catch him.

"Some of you may know me and only by reputation I expect," he started, his voice hoarse and his throat burning- getting to Baticul had been a challenge enough, never mind getting in- "But most of you will just see me as a crazy person. Which is fairly apt, considering what I'm about to do," he said conversationally, hissing in pain as an arrow caught him in the shoulder. "Now that is just really counter productive," he murmured, yanking it out in one vicious movement, dropping it to the ground. He could see more archers, lining up like a firing squad. Which it was, in a way.

"After I die, I want all of you to go to whoever is in charge, and ask them why in a week or so, everyone is dying. Nausea, vertigo, high fever and chills, paralyzed respiratory system, and then death. Ask them why is it spreading so quickly, from person to person. Ask them why the plague has come to Kimlasca," he was practically shouting, so much of his frustration built up in his words. "Ask them about the truth of the closed score. And if it isn't to the effect of one man bringing the plague to your illustrious nation, then they have been lying to you just as you have been lying to yourselves and you all deserve..." To die, is what he wanted to say. His shaking hands wouldn't even hold the knife firmly, in accordance to the original plan to end himself and fall into the ravine

Because who was he to condemn? It made him no better than the Kimlascans to resort to the same types of tactics. Except they did do it first. Did that justify his revenge? His gaze caught the bloodstained arrow in the ground. If he had thrown it into the ravine, it would have already been done. But he hadn't. He could just wait here and in a few minutes he'll be gone. Whatever happens then would be out of his hands. That sounded rather nice, he thought, as the knife slipped from his fingers.

"Fire!"

He was flying. Falling, flying, it was all the same to him in that moment as he fell backwards after the first round of arrows caught him square in the chest, throwing him off balance. The last thing he saw was the rich blue of the sky and he wondered where Peony was and if perhaps they will ever meet again.

Epilogue

'The Score Plague' wiped out 72% of Baticul's population. The survivor's rioted against the government, which had not revealed the entirety of the closed score, that had dictated one man would bring the plague to Kimlasca and bring about the end of civilization. Due to 88% of Auldrant's usable water becoming contaminated by the combined efforts of both sides, civilization did indeed deteriorate rapidly. Pocket communities barely got by with the decades of famine, drought, and disease that followed. Generations later the truth about the score finally became general knowledge and people were born into a future without a future, it seemed. But it gave people a new found appreciation of what they had in front of them and not to linger too long on the nature of what could have been, but only on what was. The figures involved in the Score's Plague (alternatively known as 'The Necromancer's Vengeance') became lost to history as names and dates and chapters in books. No one could figure out exactly what set off the chain of events that lead to the new world that emerged from the ashes of the old one, but theories were constantly being debated by historians.

All the theories varied in accuracy, some got closer to the truth while others were far off the mark, but none of them could ever understand the full grasp of what had happened. And probably never will, even if someone tried to explain. To live under the weight of a predetermined future was unimaginable now. For better or worse the world was on its own... The young man shut the book with an air of impatience, tossing it to the side. He had come all the way to the largest settlement on Sheridan in hopes of an answers, but all the books here were just vague and apologetic. He took off his glasses, rubbing his aching eyes.

"Didn't find what you were looking for?" A blond library worker sauntered over, his tanned face open and cheerful.

"No, you can take these all back," he replied, putting his glasses back on to squint at the name tag around the other's neck. "Thank you, all the same."

"Oh, you're researching the Necromancer's Vengeance?"

"The Score Plague." the stiff looking young man corrected.

"You won't get anything out of those. We have pre-plague documents in the special collections... Why don't I show you?" He couldn't understand why he wanted to know this stranger. Something about him was strangely attractive- it must be the eyes, as red was a rather unusual color.

The library worker surprised him with his offer. "Why would you do this for me...?" he asked, suspicion apparent in his voice.

"Because I think we should get along," he replied simply, taking the other's hand without warning. "Come on, I haven't got all day. Oh yeah. What's your name?"

He surprised himself by offering his name. Normally he didn't do that, but something about him just drew it out. But he couldn't quite name the feeling, something between deja vu and a waking dream.

"Okay, right this way... You're interested in history huh? Me too, s'why I got this job here..."

Whatever it was, it would have to wait.

[A/N: I don't really know. I wrote this ending a very long time ago. It's the 'bad end', but as of now, there isn't really a 'good end' either, so this will just have to be 'the best we could do end'... Thanks for reading, everyone out there.]