[ Only a second in and Dokja can barely withstand it. The first memory is one he knows he'd been a part of, but he can't recollect the whole of it. To think that they'd had a peaceful moment like this, and to think Dokja had given it up in an effort to send his better memories to the half of himself that would remain with his companions. Even now he thinks that it was better off as a forgotten memory as he watches the scene unfold. The familiar faces, the calm atmosphere, the knowledge of what he had lost.
It threatens to further break down his already broken heart.
How many years had he spent running away from what he'd left behind? Faced with it now, he feels his breathing pick up, a static buzzing in his ears as the faint tremble at the tips of his fingers grows violent. Hands now visibly shaking, he crosses his arms and tucks them against his body in an effort to hide them from view. He can get through this. He has to get through this.
But his weak determination is immediately trampled upon by the next memory that comes along.
It crushes the very air out of Dokja's lungs and he stops breathing altogether, face paler than ever before as he stares stricken with distress at what he sees now. The people he cares about gathered to one spot, the blackboard, the papers... Learning about what they'd done had been a shock to him before, but seeing it in progress like this has his knees nearly buckling underneath him. All of this, all of them. Because of him. Because of someone like him they had returned to the world of scenarios, and he can't understand it.
Squeezing his eyes shut, his hands come up to clamp over his ears. His breathing which had been labored before now comes out in gasps as he stumbles back a step, then another, in a desperate attempt to get as far away from these memories as possible. But he's trapped, and with no place to go, his back hits the wall of roots and Dokja is only distantly aware that he's sliding down to the floor, no strength left in his legs. ]
—Stop. [ His voice cracks, tone pleading and eyes still closed as he desperately tries to fight back the rising panic that overtakes him. ] Stop it, I—I can't do this.
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It threatens to further break down his already broken heart.
How many years had he spent running away from what he'd left behind? Faced with it now, he feels his breathing pick up, a static buzzing in his ears as the faint tremble at the tips of his fingers grows violent. Hands now visibly shaking, he crosses his arms and tucks them against his body in an effort to hide them from view. He can get through this. He has to get through this.
But his weak determination is immediately trampled upon by the next memory that comes along.
It crushes the very air out of Dokja's lungs and he stops breathing altogether, face paler than ever before as he stares stricken with distress at what he sees now. The people he cares about gathered to one spot, the blackboard, the papers... Learning about what they'd done had been a shock to him before, but seeing it in progress like this has his knees nearly buckling underneath him. All of this, all of them. Because of him. Because of someone like him they had returned to the world of scenarios, and he can't understand it.
Squeezing his eyes shut, his hands come up to clamp over his ears. His breathing which had been labored before now comes out in gasps as he stumbles back a step, then another, in a desperate attempt to get as far away from these memories as possible. But he's trapped, and with no place to go, his back hits the wall of roots and Dokja is only distantly aware that he's sliding down to the floor, no strength left in his legs. ]
—Stop. [ His voice cracks, tone pleading and eyes still closed as he desperately tries to fight back the rising panic that overtakes him. ] Stop it, I—I can't do this.