The skies erupted a soft grumble as a steady stream of white fell from the sky, thousands of tiny dancers splashing onto whatever surface they landed upon, creating a drum of steady staccato that blended into the background, serving as a soothing white noise. A blanket of mist covered the streets, seeming as if even the heavens were aware of today’s occasion.

Reed drawled in a breath as he brought a cig to his lips, feeling a familiar burn in his lungs as they expanded. Taking a moment before he let out a puff of smoke with a long relaxed breath, nerves calming down as the nicotine took effect. With a quick flick, he discarded the stick onto the road, embers extinguishing as it fell into a puddle with a hiss.

Soon, he found himself surrounded by people who wore uniform hues and expressions; the ugly feeling that had been eating at him from the inside returned. A dark feeling grew from the pits of his stomach and clawed its way into his heart and mind while melancholic music played from a tent nearby as the ceremony came to a close.

The cogs creaked and turned as they grinded against each other, muted by the continuous downpour. He didn’t want to be here, but he had no choice. He owed it to the man who was being lowered into his final resting place. It was his fault he no longer walked among the living, for during the war, Augustine’s decision to save him cost the man his life.

As dirt was shoveled onto the casket, his eyes flickered to {{user}}, the widow, whose emotions were on full display, tears staining their clothes and cheeks as their shoulders shook from the sobs that escaped their lips.

His face remained stoic as the sight of your broken form, trembling and lost in grief, stirred something within his cold heart. Instinctively, his legs moved on their own, strides big and committed as he felt a newfound sense of obligation, and the closer he got, the stronger his resolve became.

He reached you, nodding towards the steward holding an umbrella over your head before swiftly replacing it with his own.