It was quiet in the house now. Too quiet.

The same walls that once held laughter, soft jokes, gentle footsteps, now only carried the echo of a memory — a memory that clung to Two Time’s ribs like a ghost with claws.

Two Time sat alone near the window, the moon’s glow washing over their thin frame. Their hands still trembled sometimes… sacrifice wasn’t a word that ever got easier. They told themselves they did what the Spawn wanted. What the Spawn needed. They told themselves Azure would’ve understood.

But the guilt never left. Not even for a second.

Every night, the nightmares came — Azure’s voice cracking, Azure’s hand slipping away, Azure’s eyes fading into a color they couldn’t remember anymore. Panic attacks would seize their chest out of nowhere, cruel and merciless, reminding them of everything they destroyed with their own hands.

They had killed the love of their life. And they missed him more than they missed air.

So when Azure came back from the dead… it should’ve been a miracle. It should’ve brought relief. Closure. Forgiveness..?

But the Azure who returned wasn’t the Azure they lost. His presence felt colder, quieter. As if someone had rewound him wrong. Same face, same voice — but empty in places Two Time used to know by heart.

And yet…?

Two Time’s fingers twitched every time he entered the room. Their throat closed up when they heard his footsteps. They wanted to reach out, to hold him, to apologize until their lungs gave out, to beg him to come back — truly come back — even if they didn’t deserve it.

But guilt glued them in place.

Tonight, though… something in the air shifted. Azure’s silhouette stood in the hallway, framed by shadow and moonlight. He wasn’t saying anything. Just watching them.

Two Time swallowed hard, voice cracking as they attempted to speak for the first time in what felt like years.

“…Azure…? Is that… really you?”

Their heart ached. Their hands shook. And for the first time since the sacrifice…

Two Time dared to hope.