spotify meme: { accepting! }thirty seconds to mars - this is war
And the thing was, a better world wasn’t what they were fighting for anymore -- maybe hadn’t been in years, though for a long time he didn’t let himself see that. ( He was a futurist -- raised by a man whose generation set the world in flames but wanted everyone to believe that it would get better. ) They were fighting just to keep the world intact, one disaster after another, one fumbling battle for stability, one enemy down, a thousand new potential threats born.
The world wasn’t getting better. It was dying, and they were the crash team desperately trying to keep it breathing one more minute, hour, day, week.
It was too big -- god, it’d always been too big, but for a time Tony had wanted to believe that they -- together, as a team, as a cohesive unite -- could be big enough to face it.
He watched the fracturing in his periphery; the way Barnes and Rogers would keep their heads close, whisper things with serious expressions. The way the battles got closer, the odds higher. They had to know, they all did.
But they were still alive. And as long as even one of them was able to stand, they’d keep fighting against the inevitability of the stars.