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aegis, meet your god
"It... looks like I'm getting out of transmission range."
[Kratos eyes the computer monitor that's tracking Derris-Kharlan's movement warily, hoping foolishly that he's reading the numbers wrong. (He isn't.) It had been... easier. Leaving. When he still had contact with Yuan. But now...]
"So this is goodbye?"
[Yuan asks him. Kratos sighs.]
"I suppose it is."
[Yuan, to his credit, doesn't call Kratos a dumbass for everything that's lead them to this moment, though that would be the least Kratos derseves. Yuan just smiles, and though there's sadness in his expression, he doesn't make this any harder than it needs to be.]
"Goodbye, then, Kratos. It's..." [Yuan hesitates. It seems he can't find the words to properly say a more eloquent goodbye. Or perhaps, after 4000 years, they don't really need words anymore.] "Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Yuan."
[He wants to say he'll miss him, that he has regrets, that it was nice knowing Yuan for as long as he did. He can't find the words. And he's too cowardly-- too prideful-- to ask for a way home. He burned that bridge three years ago.
There's nothing Yuan could have done, anyway.
The transmission goes dead.
Kratos is left alone with the overwhelming sound of silence, and the space to consider all of his regrets. The despair might have consumed him completely, had not distraction come in the form of--
A ripple, in dimensional space, close enough to him that he can feel it. He looks up, alarmed, just in time to see an orange crystal drop from about four feet in the air and land on the glass floor below with a somehwat anticlimactic clink.
Curious, Kratos gets out of his chair and approaches it. He stares down at it for a moment, and then-
Well.
There's nothing else to do but pick it up.]
[Kratos eyes the computer monitor that's tracking Derris-Kharlan's movement warily, hoping foolishly that he's reading the numbers wrong. (He isn't.) It had been... easier. Leaving. When he still had contact with Yuan. But now...]
"So this is goodbye?"
[Yuan asks him. Kratos sighs.]
"I suppose it is."
[Yuan, to his credit, doesn't call Kratos a dumbass for everything that's lead them to this moment, though that would be the least Kratos derseves. Yuan just smiles, and though there's sadness in his expression, he doesn't make this any harder than it needs to be.]
"Goodbye, then, Kratos. It's..." [Yuan hesitates. It seems he can't find the words to properly say a more eloquent goodbye. Or perhaps, after 4000 years, they don't really need words anymore.] "Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Yuan."
[He wants to say he'll miss him, that he has regrets, that it was nice knowing Yuan for as long as he did. He can't find the words. And he's too cowardly-- too prideful-- to ask for a way home. He burned that bridge three years ago.
There's nothing Yuan could have done, anyway.
The transmission goes dead.
Kratos is left alone with the overwhelming sound of silence, and the space to consider all of his regrets. The despair might have consumed him completely, had not distraction come in the form of--
A ripple, in dimensional space, close enough to him that he can feel it. He looks up, alarmed, just in time to see an orange crystal drop from about four feet in the air and land on the glass floor below with a somehwat anticlimactic clink.
Curious, Kratos gets out of his chair and approaches it. He stares down at it for a moment, and then-
Well.
There's nothing else to do but pick it up.]