[ makoto’s questions are achingly reasonable. if dextera were a slightly different person with slightly different experiences, it would likely be enough to break him of his desperate hope for redemption and rise to the call of zenith. but without his memories, without understanding, there is only one path forward. there has only ever been that for him, no matter what roads he might take to circumvent it.
the fact that his purification remains, even now, is proof of that. his existence is undeniable. ]
…
[ his breath shakes as he looks at himself in the reflection of makoto’s eyes. he knows the world was not kind to him, that he can only see himself when he looks in a mirror. all that’s left of what should have been is the scar on his hip. ]
It… doesn’t deserve it. [ it hurts to admit that; panic rises in his throat, and he’s grateful that he can’t choke on his words. ] I hate that world. It’s brought me nothing but pain. But I… everything that I am is still there. I can’t live like this.
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the fact that his purification remains, even now, is proof of that. his existence is undeniable. ]
…
[ his breath shakes as he looks at himself in the reflection of makoto’s eyes. he knows the world was not kind to him, that he can only see himself when he looks in a mirror. all that’s left of what should have been is the scar on his hip. ]
It… doesn’t deserve it. [ it hurts to admit that; panic rises in his throat, and he’s grateful that he can’t choke on his words. ] I hate that world. It’s brought me nothing but pain. But I… everything that I am is still there. I can’t live like this.