Tidal | Neuvillette

XXXV

- miracles don't happen -

...12 hours had passed. And he was still sitting by the ruins, holding her close against him.

He couldn't bare to accept it all. To him, this was a sickening lucid dream : or something of a curse put upon him.

He just told asked himself, repeatedly.

"Why did this have to happen..?"

"All I ever do for this nation is bring them justice, and this is what I get in return."

"...I'll bring you justice too. And your parents. I won't stop until it's served. Let that be my promise to you."

Neuvillette slowly rises from where he knelt beside y/n's lifeless form, his fingers still lingering on her cold skin as if unwilling to let go. The ruins around him loom in the dim light, casting eerie shadows that seem to dance with the flickering flames of nearby torches. For a moment, he feels paralyzed by the weight of his grief, unable to tear himself away from the heartbreaking scene before him.

But then, with a heavy sigh, he forces himself to stand, his movements slow and deliberate as he takes in the devastation that surrounds them. The ruins whisper secrets of a bygone era, their crumbling walls bearing witness to the passage of time and the tragedies that have unfolded within their midst. He sweeps her into his arms, carrying her out of the ruins.

Fontaine fell into an eternal shower of retribution-filled rain.

It was easily 3am... or something. He lost track of time. But time is a waste, now that she was gone.

As Neuvillette gazes upon her lifeless form, a wave of anguish washes over him, threatening to consume him whole. He knows he cannot stay here forever, lost in his grief and despair. He must find the strength to carry on, to face the daunting task that lies ahead: unraveling the mystery of her death and bringing those responsible to justice.

But that was like asking a bird to give up flying. It meant he was purposeless.

With a heavy heart, Neuvillette takes a lingering look at her still form, silently vowing to honor her memory and find the answers he seeks. Then, with newfound resolve, he turns away from the ruins and sets off into the night, his path illuminated by the dim glow of the moon overhead.

Her lifeless body was in his arms, cradling her as gently as he can despite the weight of his sorrow. Her form feels so small and fragile against his chest, a stark reminder of the preciousness of life and the cruelty of fate. With each step he takes, he can't help but feel the weight of her absence, the emptiness of the world now that she's gone.

But he refuses to let despair consume him. He holds onto the flicker of hope that somewhere, somehow, justice will be served and her death will not be in vain. With determination fueling his every movement, he carries her out of the ruins and into the night, his resolve unshakeable even in the face of overwhelming grief.

She still had her hair tied back. Laced with a ribbon. Laced with the dreaded fate of delusion.

As he walks, Neuvillette can't help but feel the eyes of the city upon him, silent witnesses to his anguish and his determination to seek justice for y/n. He ignores their scrutiny, focusing only on the task at hand: to bring her home, to lay her to rest with the dignity and respect she deserves.

And so, with each step forward, he carries her closer to the safety of the city, his heart heavy with sorrow but his spirit undaunted in its quest for truth and justice.

"...I don't even know what to do."

"...You're the best thing to ever happen to me..."