@ivoryheaven my sloooop sorry i mean sorry i mean this is roughly what I was thinking of
"My self is nowhere to be found, only fleeting feelings remain, consuming me in my entirety. The Regret scatters, resonating with the City's own regrets, and settling down near those that hurt the most..."
At first, he couldn't tell where he was. One second - facing those scum at the Library, the next... In an unfamiliar office.
He wasn't ready.
Although, that place, which called itself Full-Stop Office, was welcoming to him. Not unlike some places in the past... He couldn't share the feeling it would all come to an end once again.
Philip wandered around the District, searching for nothing in particular. His thoughts were clouded with faces both old and new when a voice reached him.
A silent voice. He... had heart something similar before. Lulling him in, each word hard to make out, but making an impression nonetheless. Only thing, this voice wasn't warm like the Sun's. Oh no. It spilled with hatred and derangement, grating on ears and soul, but, at the same time, full of sorrow and cries.
Philip stopped. Looked around. Finally, turned - and the voice grew clearer.
"Brain... rotting..."
"Regret... remains..?"
"What... what have I... done to them?"
The source of the sound - a straitjacket-like coat lying on the ground, paired with a rust-laden sledgehammer.
Philip froze up - so did the voice. It quieted down, having drawn his attention. It was as if it never was there.
But Philip heard it.
He's heard of things like that. In that place, Librarians used... Something, to make themselves look and act like those abnormal beings. There were tales of people manifesting equipment with their minds, such as the fabled Red Mist. Philip gazed at his hands - he, too, managed to summon such a thing on himself...
A thought raced through his head. "If only I had more power..."
Yes. If he had more power, he could have saved them. If he had more power, he wouldn't run away. He still has people to protect, doesn't he? Him.
Philip's hands shook... And he picked up the straight-jacket and put it in a duffel bag he's been carrying around with him just in case. "It might just come in handy".
He was lost in thought. Mentally, he kept being taken back to that place... Where the rest of the Dawn Office was locked up, reduced to simple books on shelves.
He thought, and thought, and thought. How would he get them back? He had to, but... That place was no match for him. Not in his current form.
Hold right there. - Ah, poor Philip. It seems he had wandered in an unfortunate place, controlled by a Syndicate. - Where do you think you're going?
And what's worse, it seems he caught them in the middle of something.
Syndicate members surrounded him in a circle from all sides. Philip looked around nervously. No escape.
Wind blew, through the circle as it closed in on him. Philip placed his hand on his belt... But, then.
"I may be a mess now... But I will be feared by those against me. I am stronger than this... I can be stronger..."
What if?..
It was an opportunity to try it out.
The Syndicate members rushed at him. Quick! Philip evaded and reached inside the bag - snatching the straitjacket out and putting it on himself, and grabbing the sledgehammer with both of his hands.
What's that? You look like a clown, man.
Immediately, he felt a rush of power to his body.
A voice spoke in his back of his mind. And he knew what to do.
One after another... The Syndicate members went down as they came towards him. The hammer was surprisingly strong, though with a drawback - it made Philip's head ring.
But that didn't matter. They would pay for what happened to him, to Yuna, to Salvador... And anyone who stood in his way would be brought down and would end up dead before they had a chance to interfere.
Exhausted, Philip stood, breathing heavily. No one dared to approach him now, that's for sure - dripping with sweat, with a maddened look in his eyes.
He turned around and walked away.
The voice didn't quiet down, winded up by the thrill of the battle.
"These binds they've placed me in... Cannot hold my violence back."
"Everyone... Everyone must die... They're the most pitiful ones here, those people who die to the likes of me..."
He didn't take the straitjacket off. It attracted a lot of attention - therefore, even more people. Syndicate members, corrupt Fixer-wannabees... Those who wanted to steal the little he had. None of them came out alive.
Philip conversed with a voice in his head.
"You... Regret things. Don't you?"
Yes. Yes, I...
"It's unbearable."
"It's crushing."
I want them to pay. I can't lose myself again... It wouldn't be fair, not to them. I've run away before...
"You have, and left them to die, haven't you?"
I did my best, though...
"No excuses. You are a murderer too, you know."
..?
"You're as good as me... You had the opportunity to save them... And you doomed them to die. You think you are pathetic, don't you?"
I do. I am...
"You are."
"So do what you do best."
"Murder. Kill. Let your desperation be known..."
I... Can't...
"You already have. The hammer is in your hands now..."
A sobbing voice could be heard.
"There's no choice for you."
Really, there wasn't a choice. He was as good as a heartless murderer, having killed the only people who were dear to him.
He didn't want to face it again... But he had to. Only through facing his sins, could he become... What he was now.
To no avail, they screamed. It was no use. With his hands and head, Philip ravaged through the crowd, nobody there to stop him...
His head, slowly but surely, was turning to cold steel. It was the only way to keep a cool head for him... A coward.
Hearing his name made him question one thing. Just what was he doing?
Not given time to answer, Philip was tackled to the ground, the straitjacket being cut and torn off.
I... My head is... Turning into... Metal...
No it is not. What in the world are you talking about?
Philip looked up... Liwei, the team leader, stared down at him. The man on the ground blinked slowly.
Your head is fine. Dammit... Is it those clothes that made you-
He cut himself off. Philip turned his head to the side, where the straitjacket pieces flew off... But it was nowhere to be seen. It seemed to dissolve right into the ground.
Nevermind. Just... How are you feeling, Philip?
...Killed approximately 23 random people.
Yes. The voice... It overtook him. The rage and pain of another filled his brain, releasing at the end of that hammer...
Don't be. I see that it wasn't you. Did you get possessed, or something?
Liwei held out his hand, lifting the tearful man off the ground.
Don't ever do that again, Philip. Let's go back to the office.
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