The Seeds of Unrest: the Iconoclast Oracle

[beleos]

RUNNING OUT THE CLOCK

The situation is bleak.

The Blight - and the massive labyrinth of roots tearing both cities asunder, spreading deadly flowers wherever they penetrate - have progressed to a point beyond catastrophe. People are dying in rapid numbers. Bearers are having difficulty keeping up with the spread of infection - even among one another. The collapse of Kenos seems inevitable; a cure will not come in time. You can do nothing but watch as each new day brings further disaster, ticking down the seconds until it all falls apart.

And then, you feel something seize your Shard. As if physical fingers have wrapped around it, as if it is being clutched through you by invisible hands, you feel invaded. You feel wronged. But before you can panic, a voice enters your mind through Communion.

“Excuse the dramatics, but there isn’t much time for pleasantries. The Trees are about to hit the point of no return. But there's still work to be done. The Tree of Life will take you where you can find it: the Oracle and the creature causing all this mess. Fix this when you find them. However you'd like.”

Have you heard Aetos’ voice before? Perhaps it is the first time; perhaps it is familiar to you. Either way, the last thing you will remember is a confusing jumble: a spell of immense and incredible power, one utilizing the Tree’s strength to shelter you. The sensation of every cell in your body coming alive, yet seeming to break apart and render you into billions and billions of tiny pieces, all hovering in different times and places across all the different iterations, timelines, and realities in which you have ever existed. A voice that speaks not through words asking your forgiveness, unspeakably sad.

And then, there is nothing.

AWAKENING

Your eyes open, gritty with the feeling of a long, deep slumber.

Perhaps it takes a moment to shake off the heavy veil of exhaustion, to recollect what you were doing before you fell into this state of hibernation - but as soon as you do, you feel an immediate sense of foreboding around you. It is thick in the air, oppressive and pervasive, and you aren’t left long to wonder at its source. You lay beneath the branches of the Tree of Life, but as your bleary eyes focus… you see it. The Tree is all but bereft of life. Its bark has withered down to gnarled wood, the soft lichen dried up, and the grass that should be alive beneath you is long dead and gone. There is not so much as a single leaf on its decaying branches.

It has been this way for a long, long time... you realize this with a feeling of intense dread as you see it - the beautiful expanse of stars, of the cosmos, of universes scattered like starlight above the tree's boughs, gone. In its place hangs a sickly, ominously low-hanging, and dying sun ready to sing the end of everything.

You can't help but wonder how long Kenos has been in this state, but a sense of gratitude fills you as you realize that the Tree expended the last of its energies to protect you, the Bearers, during your state of rest. Had Aetos worked with the tree to see you sent here?

The next question comes quickly: how much time do you have left…? And can you find the Oracle before that time expires?

ABANDON HOPE (DAYS 1 & 2)

The cornerstones are still active and will take you to whichever city you wish to see.

Highstorm and Springstar sit like empty monuments to the cities that were once filled with life - yet the first thing you will notice is they are strangely absent the signs of the Tree’s overgrown roots, the Blight, the catastrophic damage that you can recall all too easily. Instead, each city sits as those they were summarily abandoned overnight, leaving nothing but their shells behind. There is a stillness in the air that is unnatural and unsettling. Despite the lack of any sign of the citizens of either city, you cannot help but feel… watched.

Something terrible happened here. Best you find the Oracle before something terrible finds you, instead.

The burning of a dying sun beats down on you wherever you go, unbearable heat sending waves off the aged cobblestone streets. Perhaps it is your instinct to seek refuge in the shade - but linger too long about the shadows and that feeling of eyes on your back, of being unable to breathe, of your world closing in around you will grow untenable and drive you back into the light. If you hope to explore the ghostly shell of your city in search of the Oracle - or to sate your curiosity, some problem-solving might be in order.

And while you acclimate yourself to your circumstances, you cannot help but note you feel wrong inside, somehow…

EXPLORATION

• If your characters choose to explore previously unreachable areas, please use THIS TOPLEVEL to report when they get there in the thread! We will get back to you with what is discoverable in that location.
• The following areas are off limits for exploration: below Yima’s Manor; below the Church of Heliopolis; Alenroux; Kowloon.
• The Great Trees of both Highstorm and Springstar are in a similar state to the Tree of Life and will not respond to Communion.
• Generally speaking, items will be of poor quality. Most will look as though they’ve aged thousands of years. Others will be in half-decent shape, but sparingly so. Oddly enough, it doesn’t seem like the whole city has aged at the same rate, so especially diligent rummagers can find worthwhile supplies. Please consider this should be rare and don’t go overboard!

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• Characters will have a diluted connection to the Zenith or Meridian.
• There will be periods powers are weakened or non-functional during days 1-2 (up to player discretion).
• The sunlight results in scorching; the shadows cause claustrophobia and fear while outdoors.

THE RITUAL (DAYS 2+)

The place you started your journey to Kenos is also where it seems it will end. As soon as the first Bearer makes contact with the Iconoclast effigy, you are collectively drawn to the roots beneath the Tree - like a pang sent through your Shard. Your objective has been found. The Oracle awaits.

Trusting Aetos seems like a fool's errand, but you must put your hope in the Tree. What choice do you have left? It's time to find what lies at the end of this.

Bearers descend, your steps echoing in the dark, cavernous space. Once brimming with life and vitality, the roots are now dried and brittle like the bones of some ancient leviathan that died long ago. As you make their way deeper into the earth, the deadened roots twist, leading you to a vast chamber deep within it; the air here is thick with the smell of decay, and the faint glow of luminescent fungi and mosses barely illuminates the space.

To your left, the Bearers will notice what has drawn them here - and the object of their search.

An effigy sits on the ground between two darkened tunnels. The effigy is made of gnarled, dead branches woven together in a humanoid shape; its hollow, empty eyes are sightless, yet you cannot help but feel it is watching your every move. Branded on its forehead is the Iconoclast symbol carved into the rough wood.

Once all Bearers are present, the Ritual will begin. Your means of exit have been sealed off, and you are trapped, slowly deteriorating together…

NOTES

• Bearers will have access to the Ritual Chamber which is a very wide, open space with the effigy situated against the far wall from the entrance. Several smaller tunnels off-shoot from the Ritual Chamber. They all run to dead ends; some are very small or narrow. This may afford you meager privacy away from the group.
• Once a Bearer steps into the Chamber, they can no longer head back out the way they came. They’ll find themselves automatically walking back into the Chamber as if of their own volition.
• For brevity’s sake we won’t list them out again here, but the complete description of effects Bearers will experience days 2+ is available in the OOC Summary.
• The effigy is impervious to damage.
• It Is Watching You.
• In a dead-end root tunnel attached to the Iconoclast’s Chamber is the Blighted statue of an Otter that may be familiar to some… Please see THIS TOPLEVEL for more information!

THE PURGE (DAYS 5+)

The sap has festered in your veins for what feels like days. It’s impossible to tell how much time has passed; this place has no sunlight. The effigy watches as you remain trapped, huddled together around it, unable to leave as you find yourself sick with the affliction of the Meridian, Zenith - or both.

And then… something finally gives.

Though it does not move and speaks no words, you feel the effigy offering you guidance. Knowledge. Much like the Tree speaks to you in impressions and feelings, you are conveyed wisdom you did not have before: a way to take what you want and rid yourself of what you do not. A way to make your convictions known to all who would hear them. A way to be known. To write your path in blood, be it yours… or theirs.

When all is said and done, only one force - Zenith or Meridian - will gain its favor.

Show it who you are. Show it what resolve looks like to you - and what you are willing to do to attain it.

NOTES

Here are some prompt reminders - see the full thing at the OOC Summary!

• You can Purge your alignment through various methods: Trading, Corrupting, or using the Effigy itself.
• All characters will understand the end goal is for everyone to Harmonize; the alignment with the higher rate of Harmonized Bearers alive when time’s up wins the Oracle’s favor.

NOTES

• A reminder that the Harmonization tally will take place on Friday, the 19th and be open through Monday, the 29th. The results will be released on Wednesday, the 31st OOCly.
• Don’t forget to submit any deaths to the Death Tracker, with a gentle reminder characters will remain dead until the event conclusion!
• Reminder to fill out the SETTING POLL ASAP if you haven't already!
• Have some MUSIC if you'd like. LYRICS here!
• HAVE FUN!!

CODING

Comments

[eyesite]

That's not what I mean, and you know it.

( these past few weeks have been a trial for john even before the visions he'd been given while semi-consciousness in his dissipation had come true, taking the form of the empty, blasted cities they had wandered through before being drawn into this tomb. he's scarcely had time to recover from death, and now... though the Meridian certainly might not understand how or why, that sense of questioning finality and of hope is like salt rubbed into unhealing wounds. john wants to be rid of it just as much as dimitri wishes to be rid of what Zenith leeches into his soul, but he doesn't want to be hasty or foolish in his trades.

he also certainly doesn't want to be physical about them.

he gives the tall, younger man a severe stare before breathing out a sigh. he doesn't want to deny him, especially if he is strong in his choice. but, as is john's wont, he's never much one for giving something away for free. even if it's information — even if it's a story — it's simply not in his nature to do so. )

Take some deep breaths - try to calm down. I'm willing to help you. But — ( some of the harshness fades from his gaze; it's just as deep, just as hungry, but it's bizarrely tempered by the humanity that still remains in him, made soft despite its endless curiosity. his voice drops to a lower decibel, trying to keep the conversation between just them, ) You've told me a lot about your worst experiences of your world... Why is it that you need to go back so desperately?

( one could easily read his question as insidious, if they wanted to. for a man who literally needs to collect the worst fears of others in order to survive, it's understandable to be wary of someone who would demand so much that was so closely personal to others (particularly those they were technically enemies with). but his intention as it is now is pure in that it's exactly what it has been for jonathan sims all along: I just want to know. it's embedded within his psyche that a more complete knowledge of something, of avoiding ignorance or confusion at all costs, will help or shield him in the future.

even if that proclivity has only ever made him into exactly what he is now. )

[hauntedking]

[ Dimitri hasn't yet snapped. He isn't yet an angry, raging man or beast, desperate to win at any cost, even if it means caking his hands in blood. Right now he's just tired, albeit a touch relieved from the clarity that he thinks will come in the future. He returns John's look with one of his own - although his is probably more tired than anything else. ]

I'm calm...

[ For now. He regards John. Knows there's something more to this, knows he's Zenith.

What does he say to him? ]

...because my friends need to be brought back. Because I have a duty to the people I am meant to rule. I will try everything - everything - that I can. Because that is what it means to be a king.

[eyesite]

( no, he hasn't snapped.

yet. and john has dealt with enough Hunters to know that, if there is such thing as staunching blood before it's been spilled, one would damn do well to at least attempt it.

sometimes, but especially in a situation such as this, the strength of john's gaze is his only viable weapon. he is stolid and unblinking as he returns the look that dimitri gives him, but he at least seems to accept his assertion — and his explanation. he considers it for a moment, then he blinks, casting his gaze down. yes, he hadn't forgotten that the young man is a bloody king back home; but even beyond the feeling of regal responsibility, he feels as though there's little argument that can be made against someone who wishes to return his people to the world they were meant to inhabit and the lives they were meant to live.

if john would be delivering the people of his world to anything but a living hell, he would do the same. )

...Of course. I understand.

( yes, he is Zenith, but he likes to think he is reasonable. he likes to think his own choices for Harmonizing as he does might be understandable to others, if they had the chance to know what it is he leaves behind. )

Let's get on with it, then.

( now would be a great time to produce the pocket knife he typically carries with him, but it had been left behind with everything else upon his arrival here, and he hadn't had the presence of mind to search for anything practical in the ruins (only that which he felt was typically hidden from his view). his eyes begin scanning the desiccated tunnels nearby — is he going to have to find a rock sharp enough to do the job...? )

[hauntedking]

[ Dimitri pauses slightly in surprise, his eyebrows arching as he regards John. He can, in a strange way, admire conviction. But in this case he also tends to see Zenith's conviction as leading to the extinction of his dreams, his people, his friends. His fingers twitch, curl into a fist, and then relax again. There's a sharp intake of breath through his nose and then he speaks again. ]

You're willing to trade?

[ Just to make sure he understands. He wants this to go smoothly.

Even if a part of him desperately wants to find a way to win. ]

[eyesite]

I am.

( john stands up straight as he says this, squaring his shoulders, though with his average height and modest physique compared to dimitri, it might be seen as a rather laughable gesture to anyone watching. for his part, he just wanted to appear, if not for just a moment, as strong in his determination in body as he is in mind — even if he's never been particularly noteworthy in that way before.

he studies dimitri carefully, though. some make the trade easily, but perhaps they aren't thinking through the ramifications. it is, ultimately, a net neutral exchange. there is nothing in it that would make any gainful advance on the acquisition of their goal, the Oracle.

john is aware of this, but he picks and chooses his battles. he knows he wouldn't be able to sway dimitri without force... and he thinks he would be insane to risk that, even if he didn't have a lingering sense of empathy with the man, having given him a statement prior. )

So long as you are willing to accept that.

[hauntedking]

[ Dimitri's lips twitch a little, as if he's considering saying something. There's mingled emotion there. A tangle of fatigue and desperation and a sense of wanting this to all be over. He really doesn't quite know how to move forward here. But he takes a breath. Then another. And then he nods. ]

...I am.

[ He digs into a pocket. ]

I have a knife. It... isn't very sharp. But it will do.

[ It's something old and dull, but it has enough of a point to be useful. ]

[eyesite]

Right, then.

( as far as john is concerned, that settles it.

he studies the knife; what dimitri says of it is accurate, but it's probably for the best. they don't need weapons that can do actual damage to one another (it's bad enough that some are quickly becoming ready enough to use their own hands to do the job). )

All it needs to do is draw blood. ( a beat. ) Do you want to go first?

( it's not his first time performing this ritual. first, a wound deep enough to force the sap-like blood from them. then, they apply it to their shards. it's not complicated, but... what ensues during and afterward is the part he finds himself preparing himself for. )

[hauntedking]

I'll go.

[ His voice comes out a bit hoarse, but he reaches up, behind his eyepatch, to draw his shard out. He tucks it under an arm while he uses the knife to prick a finger, the thick sap-blood welling up - and then he holds the shard out, letting it fall. ]

[eyesite]

( ah... he hadn't thought that that's where his shard might be located, though now that he knows, he supposes it makes sense.

the Eye, as one might suspect, does not like anything that might blind or traumatize it or anything it might see through. blinding oneself is actually the only way to escape the compulsion in the Institute's employ, though john is fairly convinced trying to do so to himself would just kill him outright. as it is, he shrinks back a half-step as dimitri produces his shard, noticeably pale. but he tries to ignore the disgust and fear and malaise that his connection to the Eye fills him with at the thought of it.

instead he takes the blade when offered and cuts the meat of his hand below his pinky; he clenches it around the slowly-welling, sap-like blood, handing the knife back. then he fumbles a few of the buttons of his shirt open so he can reach within and withdraw his own shard from where it lodges in his chest, between his ribs. a chunk of clouded gray crystal shaped (of course!) like an eye, he extends it so that dimitri could shed blood upon it. and he, in turn, squeezes his left hand so that his own falls upon dimitri's.

the effect of the ritual is instantaneous and strong. john can feel the last remaining vestiges of Meridian's light entrenched within himself drawn out through those drops of blood, transferred to dimitri instead. in return, Zenith wells within him, and then it levels out. he doesn't have to think it, he just knows — his Harmonization has returned to him... and it's a relief.

but, distracted as he is in this moment, the ritual comes with it a powerful side-effect: whatever empathy exists between them already by way of Communion is deepened and made much more profound. dimitri would get a sense of john, standing where he is, content with his return to Zenith — content, determined, yet also melancholic. but he isn't the only thing that stands before faerghus' king. he does not see it so much as he senses it: that which shares his shard, an immense being of fear embodied by the symbol of an Eye, staring unblinking at him. and between them, tied up in their entanglement and what he is as the Archivist... is ruin.

devastation. hell on earth.

because, as dimitri will be able to sense through the clarity of this sudden, epiphanic bond: before Oblivion had even come to john's world to drag it and all of its inhabitants into its depths, it had already ended — and the reason it had happened was because of him. the Archivist, himself. )

[hauntedking]

[ For his part, Dimitri is intensely relieved to feel the Zenith ebb away, replaced entirely by the familiar warmth of Meridian and the sense of surety that comes with it. It's good. It's what he wants to be; that determination to find some way to fix all of this. To bring back the world he's left behind. He takes a long, slow breath, squeezing his hand tightly to try and stem the slow, sticky flow of blood.

Which is when it hits him of course. That great well of COmmunion and empathy. he can feel that eye on him. That great, staring thing that seems to want so much from him, that hungers for what he provides. It's a terrible, naked moment where he rocks back on his heels and cannot quite grasp what he looks at or feels - and it wipes away that moment of rock steady surety that had been there before. He blinks and lifts a hand to press his palm into his forehead, as if that might somehow wring an answer for this out of his own. ]

...what did you do?

[ It's muttered. Disbelieving. ]

What is this thing?

[eyesite]

( it's an answer that, more than anything, he doesn't want to give.

and at first he doesn't give it. he takes a shuddering breath into his lungs, holds it, and then carefully replaces his shard where it embeds satisfactorily in his chest. the thin, demanding light of Meridian has faded within it, and it brings with it a peace and relief that he hasn't felt since he was trapped within these caverns. he no longer has to contend with his guilt, his regrets, his nagging conscience trying to justify that perhaps there is some way to right what he had horribly wronged. martin's voice, too, voicing these selfsame protestations — it won't return to him, regardless of how that might be both a relief and a horrible sorrow.

slowly, he looks up to dimitri, his gaze that same empty and endless deep. he answers the simpler question first: )

It's what your fears kept fed, Dimitri. I apologize - I didn't mean to mislead you, and since it keeps me alive, feeding it is, by extension, doing the same to me. ( so it's not really a lie, is it? ) It is Fear. Or one of its faces, at least... the one that I am most tied to.

( he lapses into momentary silence, looking down and frowning, thinking of how best to explain this. )

If a man slits another's throat with a knife, which is responsible for the murder: the knife, or the man who holds it? ( his gaze returns. ) I caused the destruction of my world, and I condemned every living soul within it to a torment of terror, pain, and confusion, from which death wouldn't even be an escape. But - I was the knife, not the person who held it.

[hauntedking]

A knife doesn't have thoughts and feelings and a choice.

[ Dimitri... isn't angry. Just sad and maybe a little betrayed and hurt. But then again, he couldn't have known and nothing he did here would change what has already happened to John's world. So perhaps he cannot condemn him. But it does grate against his own personal sense of justice. ]

What was the alternative? Your own life against a world? Against an eternity of suffering?

[ He wants to understand this. Somehow. ]

I won't claim that my hands are clean. But... why?

[eyesite]

( both his countenance and the aspect of the Communion around him changes, dark and stormy as black clouds on the horizon. )

I didn't have a choice.

( accompanying the words is a profoundly bizarre and unsettling sensation: that of being locked in place, unable to move but also unable to keep from moving. his mouth forming the words that had been written on a page, a ritual with the intention of using him as a key to allow the Dread Powers access to their world, but no matter how furiously he tried to regain control of himself, he kept reciting them — as if the man who had written them to ensnare him in this trap was puppetting him himself.

the moment he had opened that statement and begun to read it, just as he had hundreds of others before it, completely ignorant of the truth of what it held, he had been no more able to stop the end of his world than to stop his own heart from beating.

he gives a single, harsh laugh. ) If I could give my life to set everything back to rights for my own world, I'd do it without a second thought. But that has never been an option I've been given.

I was misled. I thought - ... We all believed that what we were doing was preventing the world from falling into exactly such a state. ( sasha and tim had already lost their lives in this pursuit; melanie had mutilated herself to escape the compulsion of the Institute. he had died, but it was only by his acceptance to become the Eye's avatar was he able to return from that. ) By the time I'd learned the truth and seen the larger picture, it was too late.

I hope you understand me, Dimitri. ( he really does. his heart aches with yearning for that acceptance — having shared with him his fears, john harbors a sense of empathy with the man that he would never be able to fully sever. ) I was used as the instrument of my world's destruction once, even if I did so unwillingly. To restore it to the way that it is, to the state I'd reduced it to... it would be like doing it again. Except I would be making that choice this time.

( he just doesn't have the confidence that he would be able to fix it. he doesn't think it's possible. perhaps if martin believed, he could at least believe in his belief, but alone... he's too weak for it. )

I'm sorry. I cannot make this decision for all of our worlds. But for mine, I do — because death is far kinder than what they would all face otherwise.

[hauntedking]

[ There's a bit of a wince from Dimitri. He... shouldn't jump to conclusions, should he? He has his own darkness. But of course, he also feels intensely guilty about everything he did, even if he felt he had no choice or was steered into it by circumstance. Maybe he can give a little more grace to someone who isn't him, though. He has a tendency to judge himself the harshest of all. ]

...I apologize.

[ He drops his head for a long moment. ]

...that was unfair of me. I should not have made a conclusion. I... don't know what happened to you. Or what led you down the path that you took. You... you know a little of my own, after all. [ His fingers flex, curl into a fist before he relaxes again. He understands that perhaps John wants to consign his own world to oblivion. That it might be a kindness to the people John loves and remembers.

It's not something he can do, though. ]

We have to stand on opposite sides, then. [ His shoulders straighten. As tired as he is, he understands that. He has some of his old fire back. ]

I wish there was a better way. For all of us.

[eyesite]

( in the end, john accepts the apology with a small amount of discomfort. it seems like a very strange thing to accept an apology for, for someone perhaps not agreeing with the condemnation of one's own world to Oblivion but at the very least understanding their perspective. there's not a single part of this decision that john makes that doesn't cause him pain. he regrets what he had been used to; he is furious at himself for being so short-sighted and so easy for jonah magnus to manipulate for his own ends. there are times where he catches a stray hair of foolhardiness and thinks maybe, just maybe, he could try to go back and find some other way that what had been done to his world might be undone —

but then he ends up undone by his own uncertainty. what if he can't? what if there's nothing that can be done? then he will be a lonely demi-god over a world of pain and terror that he had created, being forcibly fed of all the fear and torment around him — what he had hated most in those few hours he had existed in that realm was how much he didn't hate it. )

It's alright, Dimitri. I - ...I just want you to understand that I don't do this lightly.

( he isn't foolish enough to think this will earn him mercy. he would hope that perhaps the more bloodthirsty Meridian might focus on those that are actually fighters, but he's aware that he's dangerous in his own way. information can be more threatening than any blade. as the Archivist, he has been pursued by men and monsters because they know that very well.

the grim line that his mouth forms seems to be his acknowledgement of their adversary to one another. he exhales, shaking his head. )

Sadly, that's not the reality of our situation.

( he thinks to reach out and clasp the young man on the arm, but... the Archivist, an avatar of terror, is not really great at reassurances. and john, the man, has never been particularly good at them either. so instead he hesitates, somewhat awkwardly, and says, )

I do know a little about why you are convicted as you are. Receiving a statement from someone... ( his frown deepens, ) for better or worse, it creates an element of - sympathy that is different even than what Communion allows. I won't hold it against you. But, by the same token, I'm ... not going to allow it to prevent me from doing what I feel I must.

( of course, he says all of this before dimitri Loses It a little bit, so he'll be eating his words soon enough. )

[hauntedking]

[ This hurts; every part of it. The words they exchange, the reality they're in, the discord that's been humming in his veins for the last month or so. It's all pain. It's all discomfort. But he's willing to endure for as long as he needs to. To see this through to the end, because the alternative is to give up, to let everyone and everything he loves fade and wither and turn to nothing. ]

There are too many people depending on me... too many lives in the balance... for me to do anything but give it my all.

[ He swallows. Hard. ]

if our ideals, our goals, must clash... I won't hesitate, in the end. I won't turn away from what I need to do.

[ He's going to regret a lot of this later. Especially after he loses himself to his madness for a time. ]

I never wanted war again.

[eyesite]

( he has never gotten the impression that the role of a Shard-Bearer is anything but one meant to endure hardship; they must make impossible choices, be expected to commit violence and receive violence, compromise what personal morals they might have remaining to them, and there's still always a persistent threat that it could all be for naught. because they are not the first group of Shard-Bearers to have been brought to kenos, and they might not even be the last — though it seems as though this world might not be strong enough to persist through any more generations, any more attempts at a solution. )

I understand.

( because, obviously, he feels the same. he is ready to do the same.

he sighs, his chest feeling cavernous and hollow, just as these tunnels they're presently trapped within. )

Then try to make it a last resort.

( something that those who abhor conflict and violence should always do. )

...Take care of yourself, Dimitri. ( their exchange is completed, and john thinks it's time he left the young king to himself. )

[hauntedking]

[ Dimitri hates this place right now. This dank chamber, the staring idol, the way that the pressure seems to build and build and force him - them - into a direction he doesn't think he wants to go in. But what else cna he do but keep going? ]

...you as well.

[ He manages to smile at least a little, but it doesn't really reach his eye. He's tired. Exhausted.

And he thinks this is all going to go wrong before the end. ]