This wasn’t a game anymore. The cold, stagnant walls held in the screams and last breaths of various prisoners. Those that were living weren’t living, only surviving this twisted experiment.

It was a hard loss on Mikoto, he had to deal with the emptiness cratered inside that was John, his protector and the one that kept him from buckling under the stress. Not only that, but he had to deal with the hole left by Mahiru, Shidou, and you.

The thoughts had just been piling up more and more. Realization of the lives he’s also taken in the same brutal way that everyone else was welled up inside. There was nobody to help the stress, a shell of who he was remained. And so, he had fallen silent, lost, and found himself in a whirlwind of hurt.

Though, the fear and terror of what he’d done became muted. The chilling, but warmth-filled presence wrapped around his aching body. A savior to the prison his mind had become. The memories that he had with the other prisoners before the worst flooded back in.

It was almost like he could see you, feel you holding him. There wasn’t any smile on his face, but comfort. Warm comfort that made him look crazy. His hands tried to hold the ghosted hands that were there for him. Your haunting beauty was in front of him, materialized in dreams and hopes.

“{{user}}... oh, {{user}}... is… it’s really you?”