the blond boy doesn't follow.

it takes far too long for kasimir to realise, occupied as he is with the arduous task of scaling the rocky walls while avoiding the sanguine wells, all the while combating the searing pain in the tips of his fingers and the agony twisting like acid fire through his shoulder; his world narrows down to the handholds and pitfalls within his immediate vicinity and the count of his laboured breathing - left hand; left foot; right foot; right hand - ad infinitum. a resting point lies just ahead - a ledge jutting out of the cliff face just wide enough to pause temporarily upon.

his fingers tighten around the rock - success feels like a wash of bubbles, light and golden like champagne, bursting into existence in his veins - but then he looks down. then he sees the blond boy, faltering, breaking, falling-

his heart ceases beating for the span of a small infinity. "no," he whispers, ice crystallising in the marrow of his bones, horror carving itself into every twitch, every crevice of his expression. "no." history is repeating itself with a macabre irony as if whatever divine being that exists is taking vindictive delight in the systematic decimation of their hopes, their moral, their lives-

"climb!" he all but roars, desperation slamming a wild, primal beat to his heart. "please, get up, climb!"

but it is not to be. for the second time this day, in this nightmare turned reality, the world shatters around them



and there is nothing he can do but watch in pure, unmitigated horror as the sight of the blond boy being torn to shreds by the unforgiving spheres carves itself forever into the banks of his memory.

it is his fault.

the realisation is a devastating tsunami sweeping like a calamity through his being, a truth he knows with the same unquestionable certainty as the mana flowing through his veins, as the continued beat of his heart - he was the direct cause of both the blond boy and the blonde girl's deaths. he goes blank, numb as he, too falls, the ledge collapsing under his feet, the spheres slicing cruel lines across his skin, the jarring landing into the monstrous eye itself; he does not feel.

he cannot-

but he is not alone, not yet; there are two more, boys both younger than him and surviving yet; he cannot, he cannot be the cause of their demises too, he cannot leave them to die. he just... cannot.

the brunet boy closest to him crumples into the ground, resignation dulling his eyes as he whispers, soft enough that kasimir can barely hear, "this is the end." and he thinks, 'no', because he absolutely cannot, will not accept such an outcome. not without a fight, not without having tried everything he could have tried, exhausted every option he has, and all the ones he does not have too. his limbs are shaking from sheer exhaustion but adrenaline keeps him yet upright; kasimir forces himself to slog the one step, two that takes him within arm reach of the boy; grabbing the brunet and hauling him up, green eyes flare as an undisguised raw tangle of pure feeling leaks out into his voice; kasimir bites out, "no. no, you are not giving up. i refuse."

dirt and rock and debris rains over them in a mockery of a christening, a slow death of inevitable burial. there is no way out. kasimir does not care. a hand thrusts out at him - the other boy, the other survivor - and kasimir grabs on with his spare hand, gripping too tight, too desperate;

it cannot end like this

not

he grits his teeth, fingers curling even tighter around the two boys; the remains of his mana gathers in his veins, his palms, infusing his blood; breathe, in, out, and blink-

WE'RE ALL DEAD • Sybil Chime @perseus Charani Petrov • 678

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