"Died on the job. No better way to go."
~Dean to Sam, S12E6 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox

seen from United States
seen from Macao SAR China
seen from Australia
seen from France

seen from United States

seen from Mexico

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Malaysia
seen from Japan

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from Australia

seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from Germany
"Died on the job. No better way to go."
~Dean to Sam, S12E6 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox
"Do you take it?"
The spear is sunk onto the earth, long pole right before you. There is blood on the wood, slowly dripping down. You cannot see the sharp tip, but you feel it aimed at the center of your chest.
The greataxe is embedded on the post, massive head catching the last rays of sunlight. But it does not shine, for red soaks the steel instead. The axe shattered the wood, but you felt the impact right at the center of your chest.
The arrow quivers before you, feathers almost touching your nose. You see the bow at your feet, the string stretched taught. And no hands command it, but you see it rising, and you see the phantom arrow that now aims at the center of your chest.
Both daggers hit the plates with hushed thuds. One right after the other. The hilts dangle just before your eyes, and the metallic stench of blood makes them sting. One after the other. And they kiss wood, but you can feel them kissing your ribs instead. Right at the center of your chest.
The sword is held by an unnamed hand. It matters not. Your eyes are glued to its steel, hovering right in front of you. You can see your reflection in the metal, muddied. Muddied with blood. Unnamed too. It matters not. For the tip points to the heavens, but you feel it pressed right at the center of your chest.
"Do you take it, child? Do you take it knowing that if you do, you will perish by it too?"
And you do.
Dinner time Legend Of The Galactic Heroes thoughts, because I can't help but do this to myself:
Oskar Von Reuenthal, the man who believed himself to be unlovable and unable to love spent his last days acting out of love.
.Love (and loyalty) to his Emperor and therefore his home:
Took the traitor label unjustly pinned on him by scummy people and gave his Emperor one last war to wage.
.Love for his only friend and confidant:
Mittermeyer...
In what I have to call Suicide By Proxy, Oskar took on the role of distancing Wolf from him, most likely to avoid the shadow of suspicious to fall also upon the other man.
The battle against Mittermeyer? Most likely a hopeless attempt at severing ties with him so Mittermeyer wouldn't suffer upon his unavoidable death.
.Love for his son:
Yes, in the end, even against his own belief, he ended up loving his son enough to give the child to his best friend. He wasn't going to survive that ordeal, the child's mother was unstable and unable to properly raise the baby.
His last moments were all us being shown that Oskar Von Reuenthal was actually capable of loving... If only he hadn't been made the scapegoat... If only he'd been trusted... If only the others around him had been capable of loving him unconditionally.
The only person who never truly abandoned him was Wolfgang Mittermeyer... And even he made the wrong choice when push came to shove...