When Ingressus saw Achillean at the transmission beacon, he saw a young man who went through the Nether and clawed his way back:
The raw determination in Achillean's eyes, his hand deathly gripped onto a lever on the interface.
Even after he was violently shot off a ledge at the start of the mission.
Even when there was a blaster bolt burnt into his leg.
Even when the rest of his body slumped like a sack on the ground.
The deafening siren had been blaring for a couple of minutes, the entirety of the facility being ominously empty as any person who had not been killed by the intruders already left the facility ages ago.
Unfortunately, Achillean and Ingressus did not have the luxury of escaping. With Achillean barely able to drag himself on one leg, dropping on the ground any minute should Ingressus lose his grip; and Ingressus' mental reserves exhausted from prolonged Song usage, his mind going to snap into a million pieces if he dared to use biotic charge once more; the odds stacked against them were simply too great. They weren't going to get out in time.
It would be like that time at the Factory days ago, where Lothan's army ignited the Reactor Core just as the Ardoni forces started their retreat, catching hundreds of rebels inside the explosion.
They were dreadfully fortunate, both Achillean and Ingressus were at the outskirts of the point of detonation, yet they still used up all their energy reserves to teleport away just before the ruin and rubble of the facility would collapse onto them and bury them alive.
That was when they used up all their luck, wasn't it?
With a gentle nudge, Achillean wrapped his arm around his companion, and Ingressus secured the arm by slithering his own around the Nestoris' back, under Achillean's armpit. On the count of three, Ingressus heaved and started dragging the limp man towards the elevator as carefully as possible, slowing down every time Achillean hissed in pain or when Ingressus lost his balance.
Mustering up all the energy he had left, Achillean slammed his free hand towards the elevator button, opening the door, then crashed his body onto the steel wall, leaning on it to lessen the ache on his remaining, less damaged, albeit still very bruised foot. He inhaled deeply in an attempt to recompose himself as he relieved himself from pain.
Ingressus, on the other hand, interlocked their hands together, as if they were dancing in a spot, like what a normal couple on a date would do. It was an attempt of reassurance, perhaps, to Achillean; or Ingressus was actually afraid for once.
As the elevator door closed, the entire world fell silent and the chaos surrounding seemed to stop.
They were alone together. Only the sound of mild breathing and the quiet hum of machinery could be heard as it started descending towards the ground floor.
Their glowing eyes and horns became the only source of light in the room. Achillean laid his gaze onto Ingressus' vermilion eyes, which were warmly dim and soft, dripping with affection and a hint of rarely seen weakness.
In the light they made, Ingressus and Achillean searched each and every corner of the other's gaze for a speck of serenity. Ingressus' hand was shaking ever so slightly, undetectable to bystanders, but Achillean had learnt to watch the small expressions and movements of the awfully stoic man during the meagre time they had together.
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As the adrenaline from the fight slowly died down, the duo eventually realised their fate. There was no escape, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from the blast that will soon rain hell onto the base.
Achillean decided to shift closer, his grip on Ingressus' hand all the more stronger. They were face to face and heart to heart, unhesitantly, honestly, radiantly in the flickering light. He drew Ingressus still closer, until they were mere centimetres apart. Peering into the features of his lover, he gave the Voltaris a knowing, loving glance. He saw flashes of their future together, taken away by the fate that lies in wait for them.
Both Ingressus and Achillean leaned onto the wall, hand in hand, their hearts beating in sync. It was blissfully quiet, and although there was so much desperately waiting to be said and done, they knew all that had to be said had already been said. Pressing their foreheads against one another, Ingressus and Achillean reveled in the scarce warmth; a plea for intimacy and affection long overdue.
All they had was a few minutes, but maybe that was already enough.
They were back in the light again as the elevator door whooshed open. In an unbearably slow pace, the badly injured men slogged their way towards the shore, with a trail of blood lagging behind as they toiled in the direction of the soon-to-disappear horizon.
Halfway through the tread which lasted forever, Achillean lost his clutch and slumped onto the edge of the steel floor weakly, exhaling, panicking as the injury on his leg surfaced again. Following closely, Ingressus was dragged down beside Achillean, hunched down near the seaside.
Achillean opened his mouth just before Ingressus did, "Seems like this is the end of us, Gress."
Ingressus nodded lightly. "Yes... I'm afraid it is." He muttered in return, clasping his hand with Achillean's, intertwining their fingers yet again, pulling himself closer to the Nestoris as they set their gaze upon the setting sun.
"We could've been," Ingressus whispered, a hint of regret seeping through his rasp, "So much more if we had more time."
He looked vacantly into Achillean's eyes for confirmation, and Achillean smiled sadly, heartache carved onto his visage.
"Do you believe our message shall be received?"
"I hope so, as it shall change the world."
Golden yellow bled into pale red as the Sun set and cascaded into the ocean, leaden.
Hereafter, the sun and the horizon disappeared into the clouds of dust and wrecked buildings in the distance as the blinding violet light engulfed the parts of the communication facility one by one.
Ingressus then wrapped his arms around Achillean, pulling the both of them into an achingly tight embrace; Achillean, with his final fraction of strength, clutched onto his companion's shoulders, resting his head on Ingressus' shoulder, relaxed.
Neither of them wanted to say anything, not wanting to disturb the hard-earned silence. Ingressus decided to stow away recollections of memories of his past, expectations of the future, to only feel the final moments of his life, to only think about Achillean-- the man in his arms. Both of their eyes were welled up with tears, but they knew their pain would be lifted from them soon. All they had now was each other.
As the sphere of heat and luminousness drove closer and closer, Ingressus shed a tear while their surroundings turned to ash.
Achillean gasped, then both of them embraced the light, and the eternal darkness that had befallen.
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