Raiden lay motionless where he had fallen. His heartbeat slowed, his breath turning deliberate as he stared up at the sky through outstretched fingers.
Above him, branches bearing white two-leaf clover drifted across his vision, obscuring the height from which he'd dropped.
Fragmented emotions surged through him, building into a relief he couldn't justify, one that coursed through every inch of his body.
He could hear the others approaching, their footsteps checking on him, but his mind wouldn't let him focus on that. Had he lost his way? His mission was simple: get home and avenge his brother. So why?
He tried to justify his actions with trivial thoughts, but he knew something was wrong with him, something unwanted.
However, as he lay there with his thoughts eating him alive, he heard footsteps closing in, but he felt too much weight on his shoulders to turn.
"How are you feeling, Papa?"
