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i told you all i wouldnt stop my bullshit
anyways have a short fanfic i wrote for this moment here
idk if im going to turn this into a series or something but i mean i could hehe
maaaybe

---

A scream of sorrow and agony at the loss of one that was loved: what a fitting goodbye from a place of such grief.

As he stalked through the mist portal, dark armour clinking with each step, Viego couldn’t help himself but to smile. Everything would finally be as it should soon. After all this time, he had finally done it. It had all been worth it. Though the two deadweights he dragged behind him made his feet fall heavily, the effort didn’t matter to him now. Nothing did. Nothing but the long awaited return of his love.

    Those weights really were dead too, in the most literal sense; Senna and that little doll girl had been all too easy to dispatch himself after they had thought they had the upper hand over him. Stupid sentinels. They had really thought that they could get in the way of history’s greatest love story. It was ironic, really; they had all been trying to thwart it’s course, but had only made it more grand. Viego was the triumphant hero. They had been naught but villains in the way. Who would care about them in the end? Who would care about these two especially? The man who screamed Senna’s name as Viego dragged her away? The others of their little brigade? No. They would all see the truth soon enough. After he plucked the last fetters from the wretched corpses he carried and made her whole once more, they would see.

    The king breathed in the air of the lost land he had stepped back into. Camavor… hello again, my old kingdom. Even now, ruined and empty as it was, Viego’s old domain flourished in the setting sunlight. Though decay had worn it to it’s foundations, it was beautiful all the same. But vacant. An empty frame for an amazing picture. A sigh left his unbreathing lungs. Relief at last, after so many centuries of torturous loneliness. Through death he had crossed to find her again. And here she would be, in the very place they had first come together. The perfect backdrop to the final scene.

    He released his grip on the two sentinels, pacing on a few more steps to the remains of a grand staircase. He had known this place once; this had been his home, the castle of the royal family of Camavor. Remnants of the sweeping architecture stood against the pinkish sky. She would recognize them too. All that was left was to return her to this world. This cruel world, wrapped in such a facade of beauty. But she would make it truly beautiful again.

    From the mist, a small trinket placed itself in Viego’s armoured hand: a music box. The very first fetter he had retrieved. Hope lit his dark eyes as a blue light flickered inside of it. It pulsed. In the corner of his eye pulsed one more, then another, and another. The very mists around him beat in time with her essence. With a shaking hand, he turned the key on it’s side. It began to open, the figures in it dancing around the ascending fetter. A tentative, joyful smile spread across his face as he looked up at the gathering fragments.

    And then suddenly, there she was. Shimmering brighter than the most lovely gems was Isolde, his queen.

    “Viego?” Her voice flowed, a lilting melody to Viego’s ears. His smile only grew and tears pricked at his eyes as he gazed up at her. “What has happened?”

    “You have been remade, my queen,” he murmured. “After centuries of toil and heartache, my queen has returned!”

    To his dismay, her face fell. “I… never wanted this.”

    Viego’s heart may as well have been thrown down to the floor and shattered. “What?!”

    “You don’t understand, Viego. You never did.” Though warmth exuded from her kind face, her words were like cold steel stabbing through him. They pierced through the mist, through the armour he wore, through it all. “You turned our season of love into an eternity of bitterness and madness… and for what? An obsession?”

    It was as if the world was slipping from his fingers all at once; for a moment, he had everything. Everything that had been cruelly stolen from him. And now it was all falling away again. “My queen—I LOVE you!! With all my heart!”

    “And I loved you until my final breath. Why wasn’t that enough?” she murmured. “Our tragedy should have died with me… not with this.” Her gaze flicked towards the two bodies strewn on the ground behind him.

    Madly glancing at them and then back to her, he desperately clung on to all he could. “Let them be damned!” he said, his voice rising. “I would sacrifice all the lives in this WRETCHED world for our love!—”

    “The love you call ‘ours’ is but your own…” Isolde replied. “Your black and broken heart has destroyed everything.” The cold look in her eyes made him realize deep down that her words were true. But he couldn’t bear it. How could he now, when everything that had kept him alive was now being denied?

    “Do you feel nothing?! Nothing for me at all?” The words left him pitifully, begging.

    A terrible silence passed, empty. A tear rolled down the king’s face. Something in her gaze softened at the sight. “Yes,” she whispered. “I feel… pity.”

    Viego shattered. Thrusting his sword into the stones beneath him, an agonized scream roared forth from him. Waves of black mist flowed from his heart, swirling in a frenzied, miserable panic. “This vile world,” he snapped. “It has corrupted you, Isolde!! Locked you away for so long!”

    “No.” Isolde’s hallowed light cut through the mist, brighter than ever. “For the first time in life or death, I am free. My place is elsewhere.”

    “You do not know what you say, my queen! Our story—history’s greatest love story—has been beset by these villains!” The mist swirled, matching her own, boxing her in. He reached a hand out to her, pain lining his features. “I will NOT let go of you, my love! Not now!”

    Suddenly, a flash of blinding light issued from behind him, clinking against his armour. No. Rage built as he whipped around, spotting not just one, but two additional sentinels. Though one languished on the ground, the mist invading their injured body, the other was much less immobile. And worse, an insufferable smirk rested on his face. “Hello, scoundrel,” he said. “Payback time.” However, his suave expression fell slightly. “Wait, why are you not dying?”

    A scowl twisted Viego’s face. This fool meant to end the greatest moment in the history of the world. He meant to ruin their love. Summoning his sword to his hand, music box firmly in the other, he stalked towards the man. He was going to kill him. He would skin that smirk off of his face, and then everything would be fine. Everything would be perfect.

    He watched with satisfaction as the intruder’s spirits sank before his eyes. “What has happened? I travel halfway around the world to absolve a scoundrel, and the scoundrel will not absolve?”

    “Perhaps you aim at the wrong target.” Viego stopped in his tracks, hearing Isolde speak again. His gaze briefly flicked back to her. “My time in this realm has long passed… this… is a wrong you can right.” It only then dawned on Viego that she wasn’t speaking to him, but the sentinel. The realization of what she had said swiftly followed. No. NO!

    And with nothing more than a nod, the man raised his weapon and shot Isolde.

    “NOOO!” Viego wailed. He stumbled to where she had been, grasping at the fluttering embers of her. She slipped between his fingers like mist evaporating in the morning light. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!? MY LOVE! COME BACK!” His pleas escaped through sobs. The bits of her soul swirled around, flying in all directions, fading from sight or finding their ways back to their rightful vessels.

    And then he felt it. A pulsing in his chest.

    The torrent of mist flowing from his heart ceased. As he glanced down in horror, he realized the hole in his chest had been sealed. A triangle of warm, olive skin had replaced it. And it was growing. It spread rapidly across his body, faster than any disease. He tore off a glove, the music box shattering on the floor in his haste. The hand was entirely changed. Warm, living flesh. He shook. “No…” His hand flew up to his cheek, now feverishly hot and slick with tears. “NO! THIS CANNOT BE REAL!”

    Falling to his knees, he pushed his newly brown hair from his face. The pulsing, pounding thing in his chest beat loud enough to mute the world around him. Despair choked him once and for all as he glimpsed the last spark of Isolde disappearing into the distance. Slowly, and with a shaking, weak breath, he turned his head to the four sentinels behind him. They had taken his one true love from him. And now, somehow, they had revived his body.

    They had ruined everything.

    And with that thought, Viego slipped away into unconsciousness.

Description
i told you all i wouldnt stop my bullshit
anyways have a short fanfic i wrote for this moment here
idk if im going to turn this into a series or something but i mean i could hehe
maaaybe

---

A scream of sorrow and agony at the loss of one that was loved: what a fitting goodbye from a place of such grief.

As he stalked through the mist portal, dark armour clinking with each step, Viego couldn’t help himself but to smile. Everything would finally be as it should soon. After all this time, he had finally done it. It had all been worth it. Though the two deadweights he dragged behind him made his feet fall heavily, the effort didn’t matter to him now. Nothing did. Nothing but the long awaited return of his love.

    Those weights really were dead too, in the most literal sense; Senna and that little doll girl had been all too easy to dispatch himself after they had thought they had the upper hand over him. Stupid sentinels. They had really thought that they could get in the way of history’s greatest love story. It was ironic, really; they had all been trying to thwart it’s course, but had only made it more grand. Viego was the triumphant hero. They had been naught but villains in the way. Who would care about them in the end? Who would care about these two especially? The man who screamed Senna’s name as Viego dragged her away? The others of their little brigade? No. They would all see the truth soon enough. After he plucked the last fetters from the wretched corpses he carried and made her whole once more, they would see.

    The king breathed in the air of the lost land he had stepped back into. Camavor… hello again, my old kingdom. Even now, ruined and empty as it was, Viego’s old domain flourished in the setting sunlight. Though decay had worn it to it’s foundations, it was beautiful all the same. But vacant. An empty frame for an amazing picture. A sigh left his unbreathing lungs. Relief at last, after so many centuries of torturous loneliness. Through death he had crossed to find her again. And here she would be, in the very place they had first come together. The perfect backdrop to the final scene.

    He released his grip on the two sentinels, pacing on a few more steps to the remains of a grand staircase. He had known this place once; this had been his home, the castle of the royal family of Camavor. Remnants of the sweeping architecture stood against the pinkish sky. She would recognize them too. All that was left was to return her to this world. This cruel world, wrapped in such a facade of beauty. But she would make it truly beautiful again.

    From the mist, a small trinket placed itself in Viego’s armoured hand: a music box. The very first fetter he had retrieved. Hope lit his dark eyes as a blue light flickered inside of it. It pulsed. In the corner of his eye pulsed one more, then another, and another. The very mists around him beat in time with her essence. With a shaking hand, he turned the key on it’s side. It began to open, the figures in it dancing around the ascending fetter. A tentative, joyful smile spread across his face as he looked up at the gathering fragments.

    And then suddenly, there she was. Shimmering brighter than the most lovely gems was Isolde, his queen.

    “Viego?” Her voice flowed, a lilting melody to Viego’s ears. His smile only grew and tears pricked at his eyes as he gazed up at her. “What has happened?”

    “You have been remade, my queen,” he murmured. “After centuries of toil and heartache, my queen has returned!”

    To his dismay, her face fell. “I… never wanted this.”

    Viego’s heart may as well have been thrown down to the floor and shattered. “What?!”

    “You don’t understand, Viego. You never did.” Though warmth exuded from her kind face, her words were like cold steel stabbing through him. They pierced through the mist, through the armour he wore, through it all. “You turned our season of love into an eternity of bitterness and madness… and for what? An obsession?”

    It was as if the world was slipping from his fingers all at once; for a moment, he had everything. Everything that had been cruelly stolen from him. And now it was all falling away again. “My queen—I LOVE you!! With all my heart!”

    “And I loved you until my final breath. Why wasn’t that enough?” she murmured. “Our tragedy should have died with me… not with this.” Her gaze flicked towards the two bodies strewn on the ground behind him.

    Madly glancing at them and then back to her, he desperately clung on to all he could. “Let them be damned!” he said, his voice rising. “I would sacrifice all the lives in this WRETCHED world for our love!—”

    “The love you call ‘ours’ is but your own…” Isolde replied. “Your black and broken heart has destroyed everything.” The cold look in her eyes made him realize deep down that her words were true. But he couldn’t bear it. How could he now, when everything that had kept him alive was now being denied?

    “Do you feel nothing?! Nothing for me at all?” The words left him pitifully, begging.

    A terrible silence passed, empty. A tear rolled down the king’s face. Something in her gaze softened at the sight. “Yes,” she whispered. “I feel… pity.”

    Viego shattered. Thrusting his sword into the stones beneath him, an agonized scream roared forth from him. Waves of black mist flowed from his heart, swirling in a frenzied, miserable panic. “This vile world,” he snapped. “It has corrupted you, Isolde!! Locked you away for so long!”

    “No.” Isolde’s hallowed light cut through the mist, brighter than ever. “For the first time in life or death, I am free. My place is elsewhere.”

    “You do not know what you say, my queen! Our story—history’s greatest love story—has been beset by these villains!” The mist swirled, matching her own, boxing her in. He reached a hand out to her, pain lining his features. “I will NOT let go of you, my love! Not now!”

    Suddenly, a flash of blinding light issued from behind him, clinking against his armour. No. Rage built as he whipped around, spotting not just one, but two additional sentinels. Though one languished on the ground, the mist invading their injured body, the other was much less immobile. And worse, an insufferable smirk rested on his face. “Hello, scoundrel,” he said. “Payback time.” However, his suave expression fell slightly. “Wait, why are you not dying?”

    A scowl twisted Viego’s face. This fool meant to end the greatest moment in the history of the world. He meant to ruin their love. Summoning his sword to his hand, music box firmly in the other, he stalked towards the man. He was going to kill him. He would skin that smirk off of his face, and then everything would be fine. Everything would be perfect.

    He watched with satisfaction as the intruder’s spirits sank before his eyes. “What has happened? I travel halfway around the world to absolve a scoundrel, and the scoundrel will not absolve?”

    “Perhaps you aim at the wrong target.” Viego stopped in his tracks, hearing Isolde speak again. His gaze briefly flicked back to her. “My time in this realm has long passed… this… is a wrong you can right.” It only then dawned on Viego that she wasn’t speaking to him, but the sentinel. The realization of what she had said swiftly followed. No. NO!

    And with nothing more than a nod, the man raised his weapon and shot Isolde.

    “NOOO!” Viego wailed. He stumbled to where she had been, grasping at the fluttering embers of her. She slipped between his fingers like mist evaporating in the morning light. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!? MY LOVE! COME BACK!” His pleas escaped through sobs. The bits of her soul swirled around, flying in all directions, fading from sight or finding their ways back to their rightful vessels.

    And then he felt it. A pulsing in his chest.

    The torrent of mist flowing from his heart ceased. As he glanced down in horror, he realized the hole in his chest had been sealed. A triangle of warm, olive skin had replaced it. And it was growing. It spread rapidly across his body, faster than any disease. He tore off a glove, the music box shattering on the floor in his haste. The hand was entirely changed. Warm, living flesh. He shook. “No…” His hand flew up to his cheek, now feverishly hot and slick with tears. “NO! THIS CANNOT BE REAL!”

    Falling to his knees, he pushed his newly brown hair from his face. The pulsing, pounding thing in his chest beat loud enough to mute the world around him. Despair choked him once and for all as he glimpsed the last spark of Isolde disappearing into the distance. Slowly, and with a shaking, weak breath, he turned his head to the four sentinels behind him. They had taken his one true love from him. And now, somehow, they had revived his body.

    They had ruined everything.

    And with that thought, Viego slipped away into unconsciousness.