There had once been an end to all of this.
Or at least— that's what Lincoln remembered. There was supposed to have been an end, the one he had closed his eyes and waited for. He was surrounded by stars, the wide open vastness of space closer than it had ever been. And the world had been far away, blue and green and swirls of white painted on a stark black canvas. Lincoln had felt lucky to witness it all.
Lucky, maybe— but not deserving. He had tried and tried and tried to be good, to be better, to help people. There was so much guilt to burn through and Lincoln felt deep in his bones that he would never be done trying to make up for the mistakes he made, for the people he hurt, for the lies he believed and followed.
Daisy never gave up on him. But why? He could never figure out why. All Lincoln ever did was drag her down, even when he tried to help her. It was a mess. He was a mess.
But even through all of that, he loved her. It was a feeling he never wanted to feel again. It was too intense, too vulnerable, and too powerful. Love didn't protect someone from being hurt, and Lincoln was all too familiar with the pain and chaos he could cause someone.
So, he got rid of the chaos. He found a way to keep Daisy safe in more than a few ways. He sacrificed himself so that she had a chance to forgive herself, so that she could move on, and so that he would never put her in harm's way again. It all made so much sense. The choice was easy.
Lincoln had closed his eyes and used his last few breaths to remember the stars and the earth and the way that Daisy smiled on the good days. But he didn't expect to open them again.
The first thing he felt was confusion. The second was panic. He was dead, right? Whatever he was seeing now, it had to be his mind playing tricks on him— trying to calm him down, to make sense of the end.
Lincoln wandered the length of a few buildings, his mind in a fog as he practically stumbled with every step down the sidewalk. His mind was trying but he sure as hell wasn't calm, and he veered off course to try and catch his breath.
The building he stopped at was abandoned and starting to falling apart, so he moved towards one of the larger chunks of concrete debris and took a seat. All he could feel was his heart rate continuing to speed up, so after a few seconds he stood back up ad began to pace. He couldn't figure out what was real— what if this was a dream? Would he ever wake up? Nothing felt right.
As he paced, his eyes were glued to the ground and his arms were tight and straight at his side as his hands flexed open and closed. Each time his fists uncurled, small tendrils of blue electricity sparked between them.
Then there was a voice. Lincoln stopped dead in his tracks and held up both hands on instinct. The sparks in his hands grew into a bright glow, ready to strike if needed.
"This is definitely a trick." It was Daisy. She looked.. different. But it was her. And he didn't trust it for one second. His hands stayed up and at the ready. "I-I'm hallucinating, or someone is controlling my mind. I should be dead!" His voice steadily grew until he was shouting, both out of fear and anger. "What is happening?"
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