Kari crouched down so she could at least attempt to meet his gaze, but the state that he was in just hurt to see. It was like the last time he mentally broke all over again. But this time it was her fault for not telling him. ”I….I’m sorry..” For what? What could she even apologise for? She had told herself that telling him his original purpose would only damage his relationship with Rei, and Sixteen was so happy with him it almost gave her cavities. If she had severed that relationship, even only marginally, she would never had been able to forgive herself. And now here he was. He knew. And it was hurting him so goddamn much. And it was her fault, wasn’t it? It was her fault again. Always…breaking things.

Disgust is such a powerful emotion. Fernando's lips rocket it down Killian's throat and into his stomach like an atom bomb. The acid splash of gastric juices ignites the explosive once it lands, threatening to jet vomit up and out at any moment. If not for the candied touch of Misty Terrain snuffing the wick between vaporel fingers, it would have.

"Gods I hate humanity..." Yeah, that was a good word for it, wasn't it? "I've always been so set and focused and driven towards what I'm supposed to be... But now I don't even know what that is. How the hell do humans do this?"

His heartaches and bleeds when faced with the suffering of others. Heartbreak, the death of love, they splatter crimson on his walls.

Why?

Did he love you that much?

Would he continue to do so if he knew the blood on your hands?

If he saw the real you.

Obviously, the kid didn't know him well enough to ascertain anything more than the fact that Akira was a fucking loser. A rebellious and lazy form of teenager that really had better things to do with his time than be stuck here in the middle of this bullshit class, having to talk to some stupid ass kid he didn't know jack shit about.

"Uhh..." Yeah. That was productive conversation.

"Idiot." Kyou dug his hand into his hair and ripped his head to the side before biting into his neck. Luka just sat there for a moment, completely stunned by the action. In all of the years they had fought, Kyou had never done that before. He never got close enough, nor did he ever want to. But the things that flowed through him caused his heart to swell in his chest. The absolute resolve that he felt to help others, to save them. Luka's arms wrapped around the hellion and he just let him feed off of him in this place. Slowly, the darkness began to fade away, being replaced with something warm, peaceful, lighter.

Was this what he had been offering his people? Was this why they followed him?

This whole time, Luka thought he had been doing his part, protecting his people by offering himself, but in reality, it had just been powering their twisted god to lead them all towards the end. Rae'ilin didn't want to save them. He was never going to spare any of them for his new world order, was he? He was using them as batteries, casting them into this dark and empty place. Around him, the ones that had been lost in the dark began to wake up, they found him, they found Kyou, wandering towards the light that this new god offered instead. Luka felt the tears falling down his cheeks as he was filled with peace and hope that everything was going to be fine.

This was what he had wanted to fight for. This was what he had wanted to offer them for so long...

Redemption.

Yoshihisa could have peacefully lived out the rest of his time in the daemon realm with his wife and kids after Kanehira passed, but here he was instead struggling through the modern era because that old fool decided to have six children. And then those children had children and once again the situation had gone south and his stress levels had gone directly north.

There’s a pull of a smile she struggles to contain, the curve unwilling to straighten as the gesture strikes warmth in her core. “Thank you.”

How did humans do it? That was a fantastic question, wasn’t it? The better part of Kari’s own life had been spent trying to be good enough, trying to impress her parents who wanted nothing to do with her, trying to survive on the streets of London, fighting the obnoxious voice inside her head while performing to her master’s standard. And then what? She had lost her purpose and turned to killing, trying to survive while her own body tore itself apart and slowly drove her into insanity. And now she just…existed. She had no real purpose, she just drifted about with no real goal to work towards.