Chapter Twenty-Five

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This overwhelming darkness was nothing new to the man. He seemed to float, with no way to tell which was up or down. His knees were curled up to his chest, arms tucked between his thighs and stomach. He thought that it should be cold, but it was comfortable. He felt nothing against his bare skin, felt no air, didn't feel his own heartbeat, or his own breath against his lips. This wasn't worrying to him. Neither was the parts of his body that seemed to wisp around him in shadow. He didn't feel that either. He kept his eyes shut. He breathed deeply, meditating. He thought of his old friend, the one he betrayed. He didn't know why he did it. It just... happened. He remembered seeing him falling, blood flying out of the wound on his neck, his beautiful, light green wings tearing, and ripping off his back. He wasn't meant to survive, but he did... Or maybe he came back?

"Dark?" A deep, familiar voice said. "Are you there?"

The man suspended in black let out a small breath. "Mark," he whispered.

"Are you alright?" The voice was surprised, almost worried. "How did you get back?"

"Killed."

"Killed?"  Now it was startled. "By who?"

The man stretched his arms, then settled. "Virus. He has Google. I didn't know," he paused. "Anti has a kid."

"What?"

"He picked up a kid. Parents were killed in an accident."

The voice didn't speak for quite some time, and Dark knew Mark was thinking about how much danger the kid was in. Or, at least, thought about how much danger the kid might be in. Anti wouldn't hurt that child to save his own skin, which was saying something.

"Mark?"

"Yeah?"

Dark turned over, then finally opened his eyes. "I've done many bad things to Anti... I'm the reason for why... For why he exists here... Right now. After I fell for my sins, and took on your shape, I tormented him. Used him. I'm surprised that he doesn't hate me more."

Mark was silent.

Dark nodded. "I fell for my sins. But Anti fell because I killed him."

"

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