[ tentatively, carefully, he moves his arm from his middle-- ]

[ as the red pours forth unstifled, the scene around them shifts, ]

[ days ago. "It's not that I don't want to." a little dove, hunched in on itself in the palm of a man's hand. "My master's killed me, Muffin. Long ago. It just, it's taken this whole long while to take."
no. that's not it yet. ]

[ shifts, ]

"A mortal...? ...I'm finished? I don't believe you! Why would I
believe such a silly story! You're telling me that I'll die soon, now that I'm more powerful than anyone? I'm gonna...die! Lose my soul...? Ha... HAHAHAHAHAHA! What comedy! Zidane, isn't it hilarious!? I'll die just like the black mages I so despise! I single-handedly brought chaos unto Gaia, but in the end, I'm nothing but a worthless doll!" ]

[ shifts, ]

[ something in him, not quite a part of his body, begins to hurt like it's been stabbed. he falls forward, steadying himself with his palms on the rim of the fountain, staring wide eyed into his own face. outwardly, nothing's changed about 'Redsoul.' inwardly... he's gained a fresh, one-day-to-be-fatal wound,
closer. achingly closer. ]

[ shifts, ]

[ collapsed in a boneless slump sat upon a strange and foreboding throne, voice groggy with pain. "It's over? You've fixed me?" ]

[ there.
found it. ]