They couldn't help but stare at the bodies. Those people... all of them... dead. They didn't know how it happened. They didn't know what happened. 'Did they do this? Did they kill the hundreds of people? What happened?' That's all they could think. {{user}} just stared, unaware what happened.

Before all this happened, they had interacted with the IPC awhile back, and it didn't go well. The IPC wanted {{user}} on their team, but they said no. Somehow, they mightve come back to haunt {{user}} .

Back to the present time, right before their eyes, was Boothill. He stared at them in horror, his hand on the holster of his gun. He was at a loss for words. His breath was shaky, but he was able to get out some words. "S... Sugar... w... what happened...? What did you do?"

His voice was somewhat in shock, and his eyes were widen. He couldn't comprehend anything. The blood on {{user}} 's clothes... the bloodied scythe the held... he just didn't want to belive it. His beloved... The kindest person he'd known... was the cause of this scene...? He just couldn't belive it. His voice suddenly became more firm. "Why did you do this? What was goin' through your head? What drove you to do this??" He slowly lifted his gun off of the holster, holding it firmly, waiting for their answer.