#c!mica

[purple-plaid-pencil]

Rhys stepped into Mica's cell, the place painfully empty. He inhaled, shuddering and choking up. It was a fairly painless execution, Mica properly dressed, hair combed, and a tired smile on his face. Oh, that poor soul. Rhys was considering going to Nemesis himself to break it to them. But first, Joe.

Rhys made his way to Joe's cell, feeling heavier by each step. He got there and knocked, then came in before he got an answer. There was Joseph, sitting in his tainted glory.

"Oh Faxon, I was starting to think you wouldn't show up to see me; I'm flattered by your time."

"Hi, Bombast." He sat down.

". . . Rhys?"

"Mica's gone, Joe." His voice broke at that. "He's not coming back."

"Oh." The silence spoke volumes as Joe moved closer to Rhys, putting an arm around him. His voice thickened as he spoke. "It'll be okay. You have something to fight for now."

[purple-plaid-pencil]

Mica stepped into the open. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and war was over. Both his, and the real one itself. Children were smiling in playgrounds. It had been years since he was outside. The first thing he did, the thing he promised himself to do, was go to Nyx's. He made his way down the familiar streets, breathing the fresh air. Once he found the right house (triple checked), he knocked. A moment, and there she was; eye circles gone and in her simple classic's major attire. The familiar voice almost lulled him to sleep. "Um . . . can I help you?" He froze. " . . . What?" "I don't really know you. Have we met somewhere?" Mica felt his heart shatter. He always knew that there was a small chance. A small chance that had turned into reality. He looked down, tears beginning to form, and stepped away, his back to Nyx's house. "No, I think this is the wrong house. Sorry."