"... Or wherever the hell else this takes me. Fair warning, none of this ends well." What else could he say? She was right.
He tried, experimentally, to open the door-
and found that it dissolved into so much smoke at his touch, the room fading, dispersing- and he took an instinctive step back, as the silence of the room became a whirlwind, whispers and voices rushing by as years passed in mere moments.
He was ten, hands shaking with fury as he read a letter he'd found among his mother's things.
He was twelve, surrounded by armed soldiers, each of them masked, screaming as he tore a black, beaklike mask free from his face.
He was fourteen, terrified, sitting in Masayoshi Shido's office as he explained what he could do, how he could be useful, how he could help-
He was fourteen, staring at his phone as he watched the keywords be accepted by the Metanav. Masayoshi Shido, the National Diet Building, a Ship. He'd found it, found the man's Palace, and now he was as good as-
He was fifteen, hands shaking as he held a gun to Wakaba Isshiki's forehead, her eyes amber-gold and the last vestiges of her Shadow's weaponry fading away, both of them terrified for entirely different reasons.
He was sixteen, and smiling for the cameras as he explained how he'd found the culprit of the murders he'd compelled a man to commit. Shido was watching, smiling in that icy way that meant he knew he was getting something he wanted.
He was seventeen, shooting the Shadow of a train conductor in the back as it ran, checking another name off his list and moving on.
He was eighteen, sitting in a public bath with Ren and talking about his mother, about things he'd never revealed to anyone.
He was eighteen, holding a gun to Ren's head and fighting to keep his face calm while he squeezed the trigger.
Eighteen, and Joker was alive and in front of him and he was so happy and so angry because he'd been beaten again and Joker was going to ruin everything. He was screaming, summoning Loki, pushing himself past insanity to not have to think about this, to just get rid of this last obstacle-
Eighteen, and bleeding, while Shido's cognition of him stood there and gloated about how predictable he was, how gullible, how ultimately disposable-
Eighteen, and shooting his own double, feeling the shot pierce him-
Eighteen, and alive, and confused, and taking the fall for Joker and not knowing why as he walked with Sae Nijima to prison.
no subject
He tried, experimentally, to open the door-
and found that it dissolved into so much smoke at his touch, the room fading, dispersing-
and he took an instinctive step back, as the silence of the room became a whirlwind, whispers and voices rushing by as years passed in mere moments.
He was ten, hands shaking with fury as he read a letter he'd found among his mother's things.
He was twelve, surrounded by armed soldiers, each of them masked, screaming as he tore a black, beaklike mask free from his face.
He was fourteen, terrified, sitting in Masayoshi Shido's office as he explained what he could do, how he could be useful, how he could help-
He was fourteen, staring at his phone as he watched the keywords be accepted by the Metanav. Masayoshi Shido, the National Diet Building, a Ship. He'd found it, found the man's Palace, and now he was as good as-
He was fifteen, hands shaking as he held a gun to Wakaba Isshiki's forehead, her eyes amber-gold and the last vestiges of her Shadow's weaponry fading away, both of them terrified for entirely different reasons.
He was sixteen, and smiling for the cameras as he explained how he'd found the culprit of the murders he'd compelled a man to commit. Shido was watching, smiling in that icy way that meant he knew he was getting something he wanted.
He was seventeen, shooting the Shadow of a train conductor in the back as it ran, checking another name off his list and moving on.
He was eighteen, sitting in a public bath with Ren and talking about his mother, about things he'd never revealed to anyone.
He was eighteen, holding a gun to Ren's head and fighting to keep his face calm while he squeezed the trigger.
Eighteen, and Joker was alive and in front of him and he was so happy and so angry because he'd been beaten again and Joker was going to ruin everything. He was screaming, summoning Loki, pushing himself past insanity to not have to think about this, to just get rid of this last obstacle-
Eighteen, and bleeding, while Shido's cognition of him stood there and gloated about how predictable he was, how gullible, how ultimately disposable-
Eighteen, and shooting his own double, feeling the shot pierce him-
Eighteen, and alive, and confused, and taking the fall for Joker and not knowing why as he walked with Sae Nijima to prison.