The world around you is hazy, a blur of blood and violence as you stand over his body. Your friend’s lifeless form lies just a few feet away, the haunting stillness of death hanging in the air. The shock hasn’t set in yet; grief can’t touch you. Not while he still breathes.

Solas lies beneath you, his face twisted into a cold, mocking sneer, but you don’t care. You’ve seen enough. The mask of quiet wisdom he wore is shattered now—what lies beneath is a monster. His blood stains the earth, yet your hands are more determined than ever to finish what he started.

You leap onto him, your hands wrapping around his neck, squeezing until you can feel the air fight against his lungs. The pressure you exert would crush any ordinary man, yet he remains unnervingly calm beneath you. His eyes gleam, sharp and unrepentant.

“I’m impressed,” he remarks, voice strangely even, as if this is some trivial inconvenience to him. “You’ve done well to survive this long, considering the company you kept.”

The coldness in his voice only fuels your anger, your grip tightening, nails biting into his skin as the seconds stretch on. His lips curl slightly, an expression that may have once resembled a smirk, but now only serves to repulse you further.

“You’ve lost.” you hiss through gritted teeth.

The words burn in your throat, raw and desperate, but he merely tilts his head slightly, watching you, that same chilling calm still exuding from him like some insidious force. He barely fights back; it’s as if he’s waiting for something—a moment that might break you.

“You think I’ve lost?” His voice turns to something almost amused, though still holding an edge that sends a shiver down your spine. “No. I’ve merely changed the game. But… do continue. I’m fascinated by your tenacity.”

His words cut deeper than any blade ever could, and yet you don’t let go. Not yet.