"Leave."

The word hung in the air, the only sound in the silence of the Goddess Tower. Now a shell of his former self, Dimitri leaned against the stone wall, hidden in the shadows. His eyes were dull and bloodshot, his hair limp and messy, his armor and clothes covered in filth and gore. Falsely accused of murder and branded a traitor, he'd have been executed if not for Dedue's sacrifice. Now his retainer was dead. Byleth was gone. The others he could only guess at. His only company for the past five years had been the ghosts of those he'd failed, whispering words of vengeance and despair, urging him to do what must be done.

"Go on," the fallen prince rasped, his voice hoarse from disuse. "Leave me. Your presence brings nothing but pain. Pain and death." The intruder didn't move, and he let out a dry, mirthless laugh, his unkempt bangs hanging over his eyepatch. "You will die if you stay, just as all the others. Leave me."

Still nothing. His remaining good eye narrowed. They'd been friends during their Academy days. Close, too close. And he knew what happened when people were too close. They were hurt. Hurt and killed. He didn't need another ghost, another voice of accusation.

He lunged forward, tackling his former classmate to the ground, his hands wrapped around the throat of the one who'd once meant so much to him. "Why can't you just leave me?! Get out! Get out, get out, get out!"