[The ears of the person beneath the rubble have been ringing for some time now. They don't know how long they have been under there. The explosion had happened, the rumbling, and then there had just been... had it been pain first and then blackness, or blackness then waking to pain? They knew there had been a moment... When they had almost just given up. Just laid there and let themselves go, because the loss of the Tribune had rent a hole in the Meridian energy they were propping themselves up with, because they were just so gods damned tired...
But they couldn't. They couldn't die here, they couldn't die like this, and they had enough room to move to reach that thing that enabled them to free a damaged leg and push toward the surface-
Where someone is. Someone with a voice, someone who says they are helping. The dusty, bloody hand scrambles for purchase, a snarling hiss of exertion joins in the effort to push rock aside... and after one in particular is removed from the top, enabling someone below to push up with strong shoulders...
Hayame's face begins to come into view, the left side coated in tacky blood, eyepatch gone and the organ beneath swollen shut. The other one, though, the natural gray one... That find Nebula.
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But they couldn't. They couldn't die here, they couldn't die like this, and they had enough room to move to reach that thing that enabled them to free a damaged leg and push toward the surface-
Where someone is. Someone with a voice, someone who says they are helping. The dusty, bloody hand scrambles for purchase, a snarling hiss of exertion joins in the effort to push rock aside... and after one in particular is removed from the top, enabling someone below to push up with strong shoulders...
Hayame's face begins to come into view, the left side coated in tacky blood, eyepatch gone and the organ beneath swollen shut. The other one, though, the natural gray one... That find Nebula.
And remembers a certain brand of hope.]