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墨書 Inktalez
The careless action of God Tone brought fatal pressure to the already extremely weakened Polnareff. When his massive body accidentally pressed down on Polnareff, the latter's face quickly turned an extreme shade of pale. Due to lack of oxygen, patches of purple began to appear on his skin.
Polnareff struggled to lift his head, anxiety and helplessness evident in his eyes. His throat emitted a hoarse sound, each word feeling like a battle against death. "You... have to hold on, save everyone... out..." His words carried an indescribable urgency and despair.
After saying this, Polnareff seemed to have all his strength drained away. His eyes lost focus, his body ceased to struggle, and he slumped lifelessly onto the cold stone, slipping into unconsciousness. God Tone felt the pressure beneath him suddenly vanish; at that moment, he was filled with immense guilt and fear. He hurriedly tried to push himself away, but his movements were clumsy and slow, realizing in despair that he might have just ended a comrade's life with his own hands.
The sight of Polnareff's body froze before God Tone—his companion who had fought so hard now lay powerless on the ground, an expression of utter exhaustion on his face. Even in unconsciousness, a hint of unwillingness and determination lingered on his features, as if silently urging God Tone to continue fighting and not give up easily. In that moment, Polnareff became a brilliant light amidst despair, illuminating the darkest corners of God Tone's heart.
However, God Tone felt himself sinking into an inescapable despair. He could not come to terms with his mistake nor face the potential cost that Polnareff might pay because of it. He deeply regretted his rashness and carelessness; this life-and-death trial had dealt a fatal blow to his spirit.
God Tone's heavy body moved awkwardly until he finally knelt beside Polnareff. His trembling hand reached out to touch Polnareff's cold cheek. In that moment, God Tone was entirely different from the playful otaku he usually was; despair and pain were written all over his face, his eyes reddened as tears swirled within them.
He shook Polnareff gently, his voice choked with emotion and unease. "Polnareff! You can't die! We... we still have to fight in the Summon War, don't we?" God Tone's voice was filled with pleading, as if hoping that through his cries he could pull Polnareff back from the brink of death.
This sudden danger and the uncontrollable situation made him acutely aware of the battlefield's ruthlessness and how naive he had been in underestimating life. His tears finally flowed uncontrollably, dripping onto Polnareff's uniform, conveying a profound bond between comrades and a sense of helplessness in the face of life and death.
God Tone's soul felt as if it had been torn apart by a sharp blade; his breathing became rapid and irregular, chest tight with an indescribable pain and despair. His mind was filled with unrealistic fantasies, wishing he could use his power to save Polnareff from this merciless reality. However, his hands trembled; each touch seemed to remind him of the harsh truth—he could not bear too much from this struggle for life.
Amidst tears and despair, God Tone's thoughts fell into chaos; it felt as though his spirit had plunged into a dark abyss where hope and escape were nowhere to be found. He trembled all over, trying to resist this cruel reality with whatever little strength he had left, but the collapse and helplessness within him could not be concealed.
God Tone shook Polnareff forcefully with trembling hands; yet no matter how hard he tried, Polnareff lay as if trapped in eternal slumber—his expression calm like that of an unworldly child. This tranquility sharply contrasted with God Tone's current panic. Tears dripped one by one onto Polnareff's cold face as God Tone's heart filled with pain and guilt.
A heavy sense of guilt spread within God Tone as he recalled the earlier situation—his momentary joke and reckless behavior had led to this tragedy. If only he had maintained control at that moment, perhaps Sergeant Rad would not have been severely injured while protecting them, Polnareff would not be in mortal danger while trying to protect everyone, and Sunan would not have suffered so much.
Crying out, he cursed his own incompetence and foolishness, "It's all my fault! It's because of me... If I hadn't wasted so much time on trivial things, if I could have matured sooner..." His voice grew hoarse with agitation as he buried his face in his hands, sitting helplessly on the cold, damp stones, feeling an unprecedented sense of loneliness and helplessness.
In this dim silence, he felt a deep self-reproach. He regretted his rashness and immaturity, lamenting that he hadn't been strong enough in time to avert the impending disaster. His spirit seemed to be shrouded by an invisible wall, pushing him toward an abyss from which he could not escape.
Each breath pierced his heart like a knife; he felt like a useless waste, unable to bear his responsibilities and rightful role. His soul wandered in this desolate wilderness, unable to find a glimmer of hope, and each struggle only deepened his despair.
His emotions reached a boiling point; his fists struck the hard ground like cannonballs, fueled by anger and helplessness. His voice echoed in the confined space as if he were trying to release all his pain and frustration through that blow. However, when his fist collided with the unyielding stone, a sharp pain shot through his fingers and spread throughout his body, causing him to cry out in agony.
"Ah!" He clutched his injured hand, gritting his teeth against the pain. For a moment, the hurt made him forget his anger; all he could feel was that the bones in his fingers seemed to protest against this untimely act of violence. The pain brought tears to his eyes once more, not only from the physical suffering but also from the overwhelming sense of powerlessness and guilt that left him feeling utterly defeated and hopeless.
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