[wouldn't it be fucked up if i told you high rolls were bad and sora is just dead, again? but no, they both do well enough to escape mostly unscathed. a couple burning pieces of metal bury themselves into naib's side as a missile strikes debris nearby, but he isn't directly caught or thrown aside by the impact.
the man they're following has similarly done well-- he seems very familiar with the area, making a beeline for a mechanical structure in the ruins of a building. he's feverishly pressing buttons when they arrive, desperately murmuring to himself-- come on, almost, almost, nearly there-- until finally he finishes the sequence, slamming his hand down on the last button.
and as a truly enormous explosion begins somewhere not all that far away, he watches it, awestruck-- perhaps horror struck, trembling slightly.
"i've done it," he whispers, as they draw close. "that's all of them, gone. ...all of them gone."
an entire fortress is falling apart, what appears to be the last visible bastion of a structure amongst all the flattened ruins. heat is building from its direction. smaller explosions sound off closer to them, as war machines self-destruct.
"is anyone left alive to know?"
is this war, too? the squirrel asks, in their heads once more. what was the point?
no subject
the man they're following has similarly done well-- he seems very familiar with the area, making a beeline for a mechanical structure in the ruins of a building. he's feverishly pressing buttons when they arrive, desperately murmuring to himself-- come on, almost, almost, nearly there-- until finally he finishes the sequence, slamming his hand down on the last button.
and as a truly enormous explosion begins somewhere not all that far away, he watches it, awestruck-- perhaps horror struck, trembling slightly.
"i've done it," he whispers, as they draw close. "that's all of them, gone. ...all of them gone."
an entire fortress is falling apart, what appears to be the last visible bastion of a structure amongst all the flattened ruins. heat is building from its direction. smaller explosions sound off closer to them, as war machines self-destruct.
"is anyone left alive to know?"
is this war, too? the squirrel asks, in their heads once more. what was the point?
the person before them has nothing to say.]