Day Three

[Kenpachi Zaraki]

As the sun sank behind the horizon and brought an end to the say, so too it seemed it would bring an end to Vincent Valentine. Following the blitz for the all-important Easter Egg, the warrior had been separated from his squad and isolated with just his duffel bag to comfort him. It was a strange bit of irony, he finding himself in much the conditions he had met when he started the whole ordeal on the island. It was an even stranger irony that he would face his likely downfall at the same hands that had crippled him in his first taste of Dante's Abyss combat.

Finding himself alone following the time-space warp created by the adorable-looking children's toy, the ex-Turk had not long to steady himself. Much of what was left of his attire had been singed away, along with much of the flesh on his pale chest. The burst of ice that had co-mingled with flame in the demon child's attack during the skirmish had served to numb what was left of the nerve endings on his chest and upper arms, though the frost bite it had inflicted could not be seen as beneficial in any other way. As he regained his bearings and began to debride bits of charred/frozen, disintegrating flesh from his wounds, he could feel the sluggishness that came along with blood loss. The piece of ragged cloak that he swathed over himself could do little but absorb the blood. Perhaps this blood-loss could explain the state of mind he had been in when he chose to attack once more. As fate would have it, he had meet the accursed, hammer-toting, crimson-haired woman once more.

In his delirium he had dealt some damage, though he had once more been struck by the wrath of the lightning hammer. The gunslinger wondered how things could have been different had he risked himself early-on for a chance at reaching the illustrious weapon. Perhaps he could have been in a different position; but in the Abyss, death was a near certainty one way or another. He had been foolish to enter the contest in the first place, driven by the mad desire to reach Karl Jak and get information on leaving this universe. It was his foolishness that would lead to him dying on the island, a failure to those that he held dear.

The ex-Turk lay supine in the darkness, seeking shelter beneath the enormous trees that comprised the forest. His ravaged body burned with agony from his multiple injuries. It was just past midnight is his senses could still be trusted, though the blow he had taken to his head may have confounded him more than he realized. Valentine could hear the blood pulsing in his ears as his body pooled the life-giving liquid at the sight of the contusion in an attempt to stave off further swelling or destruction of tissue. This, though, would not matter much in the long run. The lightning strike had hit him quite close to where he had been hit the day before, and though his senses did not fail him as they had in the past, he could feel his heart beginning to skip. The short bursts of fibrillation had already begun to come closer together, his heartbeat becoming increasingly irregular. It did not matter what he did, the organ would likely stop altogether soon enough.

His story had come to an end. Separated from those he loved, now known only as a line in an obituary. Nanaki would wait for the Prime back in Coruscant, though never see him again. He would never see his friends again, never be able to protect them from the ills that haunted Gaia. Years ago, Vincent would have killed to be met with death. Immortality was a cruel gift for someone shouldering the sins he did. Now though, he wished he could perhaps have just a bit more time.

GET UP.

Vincent's eyes sprang open. His crimson irises had dulled, though he could still feel the smallest amount of life puttering through his veins. Every inch of him wanted to succumb to the darkness, to finally be at peace in death. Despite this, something inside his head spurred him to get to his feet. The little voice that had before only suggested he continue was now screaming, pleading for him to go on. He could not put a finger on from where this urge was coming, but he felt compelled to heed it.

Scrambling uneasily to his feet, the Prime staggered into the darkness.