The whiteness stretched endlessly around them. Yet in that emptiness, four figures stood close together: John, Tony, Nyx, and the fading form of Eccaruss.
It was silent for a long while. The kind of silence that pressed on one's chest, heavy, like the pause before a curtain fell.
John's eyes lingered on the old man. Eccaruss's outline looked thinner than before, translucent at the edges, as though the void itself was slowly swallowing him piece by piece. His once-proud back remained straight, but John could sense the fragility in it. A fragment of a soul… nothing more than a memory clinging stubbornly to existence.
Tony shifted uneasily, scratching the back of his neck. "Well," he muttered, trying and failing to mask the heaviness in his tone, "this is cheery. Just us, hanging out in purgatory. Love what you've done with the place, old man."
Eccaruss chuckled softly,
John stepped forward, his usually calm expression tinged with a rare, quiet desperation. "There must be a way," he said. "There has to be something—some spell, some technique, some fragment of power—that can keep you here. You don't have to disappear."
Eccaruss looked at him with eyes that carried centuries, no, millennia of weight. He shook his head gently. "No, boy. My time has long been over. If I wanted I could stay a year or 2 more but what's the point. I have lingered only because fragments sometimes refuse to scatter until they have seen their purpose fulfilled. And mine…" His gaze softened. "…was to guide you, even if only for a little while."
"But—"
"John." Eccaruss's tone sharpened, firm yet kind. "I have lived for hundreds of thousands of years. I have seen kingdoms rise and fall, stars born and swallowed by the void. I have walked paths most mortals cannot even imagine exist. There is no saving me, because there is nothing left to save. My journey ends here. Yours begins."
The words landed heavily, like stones in John's chest. His hands clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms. He had faced beasts, calamities, trials that would break men in moments—but the helplessness in this instant was worse than any blade at his throat.
Beside him, Nyx stood as still as a statue. Her violet eyes did not waver, her expression as cold as polished stone. If she felt anything about the farewell, she did not show it.
Tony noticed, of course. He always did. His temper flared in irritation, sharp enough to break the tension. "What, nothing from you? The old man's about to vanish into dust and you're just standing there like a marble doll."
Nyx turned her head slightly, her lips curling into a faint, disdainful smile. "Why should I weep for him? It is good that the old man is dying. Otherwise, I would have killed him myself."
The air stilled, sharper than a blade's edge.
Tony blinked, taken aback. "What the hell did you just—"
But before he could unleash another tirade, Eccaruss spoke, his smile faint but genuine. "You still remember what I did to you."
For a moment, there was something almost human in Nyx's expression—a flicker, no more, like the shadow of an old scar reopened. But she didn't deny it.
"Yes," she said simply.
Eccaruss sighed, his voice carrying the weight of regret, but not shame. "You should also remember why I did it. You may not forgive, but you must understand. Nyx… this may be your chance to turn around. You failed in life, but now? Perhaps you can do what you could not before. Protect John. Follow him. He will take you farther than you ever reached on your own."
The faintest pause followed. Nyx tilted her head, eyes flicking toward John with a trace of warmth that did not match her words. "Of course," she said flatly, "I trust my master. You don't have to worry about it." She waved her free hand dismissively, as though brushing away the old man's final sentiment. "Just go already."
Tony let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "Unbelievable. The man gives you his last words and you tell him to hurry up and die? You're colder than ice."
Nyx's gaze snapped to him, razor sharp. "And yet you're still alive, aren't you? Be grateful for that much."
Tony's jaw tightened, but for once, words failed him. He looked away, muttering under his breath, "You're impossible."
John stood in the middle of it all, caught between Nyx's arrogance, Tony's irritation, and the inevitability of what was coming. He wanted to speak—say something that would matter, something that could bridge the gap between farewell and eternity—but no words felt strong enough.
Eccaruss, sensing his struggle, gave him a gentle smile. "You don't need to say anything more, boy. You've already given me what I needed most. Hope."
The whiteness around them seemed to thrum faintly, as if echoing the old man's words. His outline grew thinner, like mist unraveling in the morning sun.
Tony stepped forward, his usual sarcasm cracking at the edges. "Old man… you're not so bad, you know. For a cranky soul fragment who made my life hell more than once."
Eccaruss chuckled, the sound already fading. "And you… are not so insufferable as you pretend to be. Keep that fire, boy. It will keep you alive when little else will."
Nyx remained silent, watching, her arm still linked with John's. Her face betrayed nothing, but when Eccaruss's eyes met hers one final time, there was no hatred there. Only a weary kind of acceptance.
"Remember my words, girl," he said softly. "Protect him. He will bring you to heights you cannot yet see."
The light of his body flared faintly, his voice thinning like a whisper carried by wind.
John's throat tightened. "Eccaruss…"
"Live well, boy." His smile lingered until the very last fragment of him dissolved into the void, scattering like ash caught in sunlight.
Silence fell.
John stood frozen, his hand half-raised toward the space where Eccaruss had been. The emptiness pressed harder now, heavier, as if mocking the absence left behind.
Tony exhaled sharply, breaking the stillness. "Damn it." His voice was gruff, but his eyes were brighter than usual. "I didn't think it would hit that hard."
Nyx tilted her head, watching John carefully. "Are you going to stand there mourning forever? He is gone. Nothing will change that."
"Do you ever stop?" Tony snapped, rounding on her. "Do you even understand what just happened?"
Her lips curved faintly. "I understand perfectly. A dying ember has finally gone cold. That is all."
John's hand lowered slowly. He glanced at Nyx, at Tony, then at the emptiness stretching around them. His expression was calm on the surface, but the heaviness in his eyes betrayed the storm within.
"…Let's go," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm.
Nyx nodded obediently, her arm tightening around his. Tony muttered something under his breath but followed without argument.
Behind them, the place where Eccaruss had stood was empty. But his words lingered, echoing in the silence:
My journey ends here. Yours begins.