Written for Shipping Week
Prompt: cacophony
Pairing: Siffrin/Isabeau
A/N:I had fun with this one, altering the text and writing style to mimic that of Siffrin's deteriorating mental state in act 5. I can't make the wobbly animated text that was utilized in game, but I can make similar alterations. Sorry Sif, little buddy, but I had to make you suffer this time.
ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴅᴀʀᴋ...
...yₒᵤ cₐₙ'ₜ ₘₐₖₑ ₛₑₙₛₑ... ₒf ₜₕᵢₛ wₒᵣₗd...
And everything around you seems to fall apart.
˙ʇɹɐdɐ llɐɟ oʇ sɯǝǝs noʎ punoɹɐ ɓuıɥʇʎɹǝʌǝ pu∀
A cacophony of voices, all of them yours. Twisted, inverted cries of death, unrecognizable... screaming into the void.
...Tₕᵢₛ ᵢₛ ₜₕₑ cₐₗₗ ... ₒf ₜₕₑ ᵥₒᵢd...
Only one figure emerges from the shadows. It's you! Isn't it? No, wait, it is you, but dark, darker, yet darker. And even darker still. Changed somehow. Twitching and writhing, it gives voice to a series of disjointed sounds, broken and screeching in agony. You ask it how its day went. It cannot speak. Yet. It starts making noises recognized as sobbing. All around you your shadows are crying in unison.
...ₐₙd yₒᵤ cₐₙ fₑₑₗ ₜₕᵢₛ wₒᵣₗd cₒₗₗₐₚₛₑ...
...fᵣₒₘ wᵢₜᵢₙ...
You turn your head, watching in horror as the spectral entities bleed and convulse on the ground. Some of them are tearing out fistfuls of their own hair, which then turns to stardust at your feet. You are surrounded by your own torment. It's the only thing you and your shadow self seem to understand. It's the only thing you remember. All you know is suffering.
...Yₒᵤ ᵣₑₘₑₘbₑᵣ...
Yes, of course! This you remember! This is your fault! Yᴏᴜ ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ and you... you deserve this, don't you?
It takes a moment for you to even realize that this shadow is speaking directly into your mind, confirming this belief that you are nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing! You are nothing! Worthless!
With tears streaming down the side of your face, you ask your shadow to stop crying. It stops for a moment, looking up at you in confusion. Then continues, softer this time. This monstrosity is you. Good job!
Trembling, you raise your right hand, clutching your dagger.
...Yₒᵤ cₐₙ'ₜ...
It's going to end. It's all going to end.
Somehow, you smell sound. But you can't recognize the flavor. You argue with your shadow self about the adverse effects of croissant consumption. Don't do that again. You remember eating starlight, how it screamed when you took your first bite. Strange. Tastes like pie smells.
You hate this. ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ. At the top of your lungs you scream out into the void. ʏᴏᴜ... ʜᴀᴛᴇ... ᴛʜɪꜱ..! You hate yourself! You throw your dagger at your shadow. It catches the blade in its barren eye socket and gulps it down. It looks... slightly happier?
.....Smells like burnt sugar.....
Falling to your knees, you grasp at anything you can recognize. Any fragment, any corrupted shape or distant remnant that's within reach. And suddenly... he's here. The fighter is holding you as you continue to scream. At first his touch is like electricity, lightning surging through your veins.
...yₒᵤ ₛₕᵤddₑᵣ... yₒᵤ gₐₛₚ... ʜʏᴘᴇʀᴠᴇɴᴛɪʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ...
You're so cold, his touch is like fire. No. No no no no, this isn't real! This isn't real this isn't real this isn't real this isn't real this isn't -
"Do you care?" Mal du Pays whispers in your ear. "Does it matter?"
You wanted this. You don't deserve it, but you wanted this. Of all things. Lowering your head, you embrace the spectral form of your forgotten friend. You can't even remember his name, and yet you crave his touch.
"I'm so tired." Your own voice, hoarse, broken. It's all you can think to say. At least this time you know you won't die alone.
