Atop a ruined building—the only visible thing for miles—the world is quiet.
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Dust and sulfur hang heavy in the air. The sky above is blackened, lifeless.
The only sound is the quiet echo of boots against the cracked stone.
A man wrapped in a dark cloak walks toward the edge of the roof.
A woman lies there bleeding, life slowly leaving her.
"I feel you're done," he says.
He glances at her once before turning his eyes back to the sky.
"I'm disappearing now."
With a sigh, he lowers himself and lies down beside her, closing his eyes.
"You'll be back right?"
The woman slowly whispers.
"They'll wake up again."
"I know," he replies. "It all depends on what I do when I wake up."
"What?"
Weakened, she still forces herself up, glaring at him.
"You don't know what you're going to do?"
He exhales slowly.
"Who knows what's going to happen. Hell–even God probably couldn't pull off what we're about to do."
She slumps back down, resigned.
"Remember me."
"I will Lia."
Silence settles over the rooftop. Somewhere far below, something collapses with a distant rumble.
The man looks at her again, like there's something he wants to say.
Then he looks away, nothing to be read on his face now.
"I can't wait," he mutters. "I'll do it myself."
He stands, visibly weaker now, and walks to the edge of the building.
Below him stretches the remains of a once-bustling city—now nothing but ruin.
"Thank god Lionel's locked up," he murmurs to himself. "He would've laughed himself to death."
He leans forward off the edge.
The ground surrounds him.
And he's gone.
Nothing can be seen around except for the once bustling city turned to ruin
Nothing to be heard but the silence—and a world turned to rubble.