God. Stupid squabble, brought to such consequences.

Quackity was lying on the ground, all wet from the rain, though not completely. Besides the water getting on his clothes, there was a rather large sword wound in the middle of his shirt. His white and wet shirt was stained with blood, as well as his hands and mouth, from which blood was gradually flowing out. He was lying there, looking up, with a dazed expression on his face. His eyes looked a little glossy, maybe even on the verge of tears, but he still didn't show any other emotion.

Quackity no longer felt the last glance of his two "fiancés", who quickly left, leaving him lying there. He barely noticed the footsteps on the damp ground, and the silhouette standing above him.

Wilbur was smoking a cigarette, looking at Quackity, who was bleeding on the ground. His hands were in his pockets, as if he was in no hurry. He slightly raised two fingers to the cigarette, exhaling smoke.