"Scar, behind you, seriously!"
The blood was roaring in Scar's ears, his heart beating so powerfully he could almost feel it shaking his hands as he loosed his arrow. Pearl fell out of sight, stumbling back into the pit behind her as the arrow pierced her shoulder. The roaring grew louder for a moment, filling his mind with chaotic noise. He shook his head to clear it and locked eyes with an approaching zombie.
Well, no matter. She was waiting for him down there.
"Pearl? I'm comin' for ya! Where'd you go?" He called as he began to make his way down into the pit, sword at the ready, a grin stretched wide across his face. Where was the banter, the fun? Was he just supposed to make this final battle interesting all on his own? That was hardly fair—
A soft voice drifted past his ear, past the blood and the flesh and the bone, and his heart seemed to stop.
"She's dead, Scar." His hands were shaking harder now, and he couldn't blame it on his heartbeat. "You won."
He knew that voice. The whisper of an ally, a soulmate, a victor.
A friend, once. A long time ago.
But if he was hearing that voice....
"Oh." His own voice was quiet, distant, nearly as ethereal as the hand he could just barely feel on his shoulder. "... How did the guy with no friends win?"
The shaking was in his voice now too, his mind finally clear for the first time in... how long? Weeks? Months, now?
Thunder rumbled as — surrounded by the spirits of those who were killed to get him there, tears slipping down his cheeks — Scar began to laugh.
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