Reflections of his faults, tarnishes of his being- it could almost be visible through every spark of the flames. At least, in the eyes of someone whose actions could no longer be undone. The hoarse screams had long died out in the crackling, and the boy had too, fallen in the midst of it all. Stan is tumbling while kneeling on the ground, he starts to slowly look up at you.

Stan: Who are you!? What do you want from me!? Stan cries out, shaking profusely.