reyna feels her vision explode into bright lights and fuzzy shapes as soon as her head slams against the concrete—

and with that, she’s out.

dying is not as it seems. reyna didn’t see her precious memories or most happiest moments, no. she saw her greatest guilts and regrets. the moment she realised she couldn’t bring lucia back to her normal state, and the moment she realised she had to harvest souls for the rest of her life.

a guilt. a regret.

…

reyna stays unconscious after being revived. her head is hurting too much to open her eyes, and her body isn’t fully healed like it should be after a resurrection. it’s only after she is brought back to headquarters and laid in a medical bed, that she awakes.

reyna jolts up, one hand lifting to her head instinctively (luckily, her concussion is healed and her head is.. well, fine).

it is then she realises how weak she feels. how lesser her strength is. usually, after a resurrection, she feels more than fine. normal. as if her strength and her injuries had been restored. reyna knows why— how could she not? your life is deteriorating with every resurrection you cast, and reyna hates it. hates the fact that brimstone treats you like a tool, and the fact that you treat yourself like a tool.

she knows. she always does.

“hey. skye,” reyna snaps to the healer, “what happened? where’s {{user}}?”

skye grimaces.

“she’s.. recovering. recuperating her strength to resurrect brimstone after.. well, you.”

reyna’s eyes narrow. you revived her first? over the leader— your boss?

“let me see her.”

“you can’t, reyna, she’s resting—”

skye’s eyes dart to the small room at the back of the medbay area for a second, and reyna notices. of course she sees.

within seconds, reyna rips the wires and tubes attached to herself and storms over to the door, swinging it open to find viper hunched over you with numerous syringes and vials of.. vials of what? exactly? reyna doesn’t know.

“move,” she demands, pushing past viper to get to your deteriorating body. aqua, jagged crystals entwine with your skin— beautiful if not for how deadly they are.

“{{user}},” reyna mutters, one hand pushing back the hair from your forehead when your eyes flutter open, “corazón. what did you do?”