101 | choices; the after that follows

A lone train continued its wanderings through realities. In a space and time that was akin to an illusion, existing and not existing.

The doors to a carriage slid open, and the sound of heels clattered on the ground as it trembled with movement. The woman continued to walk, stepping into the next carriage calmly.

A young boy sat by the corner, staring at one of the advertisements plastered on the train. It was made of blocks of different colours with illegible words.

By his side, a beautiful girl with hair as black as ebony, and skin as white as snow, rested her head on his shoulders. It looked like she was sleeping.

The boy spoke without turning. "Do you have a ticket?"

The woman hummed, unfolding a slip of paper. "Does a used one count?"

Silence flowed between them, and the boy closed his eyes with a soft sigh. The train continued to rattle past memories and tragedies, portrayed out the widespread windows.

"Is this really your choice? Of all of them, I thought you wanted to live the most."

"I thought the same." admitted the woman with a gentle smile. "Otherwise, why did I try so hard? Why did I endure it all if I didn't want to live? But I wonder if it was simply because thinking that I didn't want to live anymore was too frightening."

"You've changed."

"Thank you for saying so, I hoped I did."

The boy offered her a lazy glance, yawning quietly as his somber gaze turned to the opposite end of the carriage, through a small window that led into the next.

"You're aware that you cannot see him yet. You do not have the ability to do so. I cannot change that."

"I was hoping it wouldn't be so, but I considered that possibility."

"It's not late to go back. There is a lot you'd have to endure, maybe worse than what you already have, if you want to be with him again. And," The boy brushed his sister's hair quietly. "Being reunited isn't always a blessing."

A smile, and a back that was a little straighter than it once was. "I know. But I thought even if this isn't real, that I didn't want to leave him alone again."

"He won't forgive you, even when you do get to see him. You, who he trusted most, killed him. That's a betrayal."

"Of course. I never expected it to be easy."

"But this is what you'll choose?"

"This is what I've chosen."

Her words implied that there was no turning back—an option to change her mind didn't exist to her. The boy regarded her, and closed his eyes quietly.

"Then survivour of your reality, given a choice to wake up or to remain in this delusion, you have chosen to continue dreaming. Should you persist, there may come a day you can reunite with your most beloved."

His words became somber, and he straightened his back. "You will become an existence that is neither truly human nor Teller. You will be denied by both sides."

Nora swallowed, nervous. Nobody wanted to live with their existence denied, destined to be an outcast and never feeling comfortable.

It would be easier to turn back.

She turned her head to the window at the end of the carriage, and the child with his knees curled to his chest. He occasionally raised his head, alert but also eager, clearly waiting for somebody.

She thought of the strong woman she'd met, who eventually became sarcastic and cruel, though under the surface, she was undeniably kind.

"I accept this Story." said the woman finally, and the boy gazed outside silently.

The train continued to rattle, passing through time and tragedies. Inside, there were all sorts of existences, forgotten Tellers, old friends, lost family. As for what stories occurred within the carriages, that was something unknown.

Inside, a woman waited for her stop. Beside her, a boy with a beautiful girl leaning against him, accompanied her.

——— XXX ———

Countless people rose from the ground, blinking in confusion as they gazed at their ruined world. It's destruction was proof that it had existed, and yet their heads ached, feeling as if waking from a long, lucid nightmare.

They squinted their eyes, before widening them in realization. The blessing of feeling the light burn into their gazes, of needing to squint to stare at the skies.

Sunlight.

Tears streamed down several's faces, ugly sobs escaping them in the midst of their confusion. Others scrambled to stand, hurriedly digging through the rubble until their fingers bled.

They seemed to be searching for something. Or somebody.

Others held each other and cried directly out loud, rubbing the tears over their faces, for once in their lives, indifferent to how ugly and wretched they appeared.

Not everybody woke up outside, among the broken slabs and chaos.

One man, wearing a doctor's coat that was white and unblemished from tears and stains, slowly opened his eyes. The white of the walls was blinding, and he jolted from confusion, groaning as he rubbed his temples.

He was disorientated as he stumbled, bracing against the wall. There was nobody near him, and his frown deepened as his mind regained stability.

"Lucas..." He called out to the empty air. "Lucas? Lucas!"

One of the doors along the hospital hallway burst open, and Will, with disheveled hair and a deep, startled look, burst out of the room. His feet were bare, and other than exhaustion, he appeared to be in one piece.

"Will." breathed Kane as he walked over, bending down to hug the frail teenager. "You're here. Thank goodness."

"D-doctor... what... this... I don't remember falling asleep?"

Kane's gaze sharpened and then softened, a sigh smoothening the sharpness of his shoulders. He pulled away, and gazed down the hallway. "Let's go take a look at the others, Will. Then we'll decide our next plan."

"But... you were... yelling for Lucas..." Will wheezed, feeling out of breath and agony bursting in his chest. But this was proof of his living. "Go find him."

The doctor blinked in surprise, and shook his head. "You children are my responsibility as well. I'll scold him later for his dangerous actions. We've just met up again, and he's as troublesome as before."

There was a fondness in his voice.

Will was still in a daze as Kane helped him stand, and led him down the hallway. Some of the children were still in a deep slumber, snoring loudly as the pair exchanged a glance and smiled in amusement.

Berry was sitting eerily still in his bed, cross-legged.

"...Berry?" called out the teenager gently.

Berry trembled. "I-I don't... sniff... I feel so weird! It's, is it, wahhhh....! Is it over?" He wailed and Will didn't care for his exhausted body, running out to embrace the crying child.

His eyes felt hot, burning with unshed tears. "I... uncertain... it is possible..."

"Then! Is everybody back? It was all just... a-a nightmare, right!"

Kane closed his eyes. "Let's go Berry, and take a look, alright?" If they did come back, it would be a miracle. But if they didn't, Kane wouldn't lie to these children who fought hard to survive.

Berry leaped out of his bed, holding Will's hand fiercely as he dragged the other down the hallway to knock on all doors.

A bloom of of hope sprouted in Will's heart.

Perhaps... could it really have all been a really long nightmare?

Could those children—his precious family—have returned?

Berry swung a door wide-opened with a brilliant grin. It was his closest friend, one he used to colour pictures with every day. He shouted loudly.

"Hello—"

The child's words cut off, staring at an empty and bland bed, the blankets disheveled. Berry gulped, and spun around. "He probably went to the bathroom!"

Kane walked over, placing his hand on the mattress.

It was cold.

They'd all just woken up, and even if it was possible that some woke up earlier than others, the other children had all been found in their respected rooms, as if they'd never left.

It would've had residual warmth, but there was none.

Berry's bottom lip quivered, and he shook his head, refusing to accept it.

"Why... why, why, why!"

Kane directly dropped to one knee, pulling the sobbing child into his chest. He pulled Will over too, sighing at the teenager's appearance of pretending to be calm.

"Cry. Grieve for them, the both of you. Later, we'll pay our respects to them, okay? Later, you have to find happiness, for their sakes, hm?" Kane smiled helplessly, pressing a finger to smooth the wrinkles on the boy's forehead. "Look at you, what an ugly face."

"Ugly! No... Berry's very handsome!"

"He would be even more handsome smiling, don't you think?"

Berry pouted, gulping loudly as he smacked his cheeks. Reluctantly, he pulled the blankets up to tuck the bed in neatly—as they'd been taught to do in the hospital.

After all, even if his friend could no longer make his bed, couldn't Berry do it?

The child, head lowered, patted the made bed, sniffed twice, and then walked out the room. He grabbed onto Will's hand tightly as he left, and to Kane with the other.

——— XXX ———

A woman sat on a high roof-top overlooking the entire city. The chaos, the mess, the emotions that were tangled and confused.

She snickered at a man who woke up sprawled across the roof of his car, disordered limbs spilling on the side as he rolled off with surprise. Then, her smile stilled as she lifted her head to the sun.

With closed eyes, she felt the cold of the light breeze that mixed with the warmth of the sunlight. Her black hair blew around her face quietly.

"Tch. Making us wake up like it was all a dream... but not bothering to repair the mess that the Delusion left. How stingy." She complained out loud, turning her head to look to the side, as if talking to another person.

There was nobody there.

"...to think that a cowardly person like her would've chosen that path in the end."

The woman laughed, and her shoulders fell. "Although I guess, that's what I liked about her. Both her cowardliness, and her determination."

She waved her fingers in the air, and black, sharpened needles appeared at the tips of her fingers. But there was no longer an enemy to use her ability on, nobody to fight for or to protect.

The reality they'd all fought so hard to return to, was it really worth it?

Then, among the crowds of people below, she saw a particular youthful man with a large build, but a face that peered around cautiously and with some fear as well as confusion. Beside him, a short boy with fluffy brown hair squatted on the rubble.

Sweeping her gaze over, a youth with a devilish grin smiled from the rubble, seeming to notice her gaze. He wagged his fingers, and started towards the pair she'd been watching earlier.

His steps hesitated, before he called out to the others.

Wren sighed, and patted her pants as she stood up. What would she do next, and where would she go?

For now, it seemed like those two—three now—idiots among the rubble had a destination in mind. That silly loyal brat, and the cowardly athlete. And the crazy bastard that sought danger to feel alive.

She supposed she could follow them for now.

——— XXX ———

In a secluded mansion, with an elaborate garden that hadn't been tended to in long, and had become overgrown with a variety of plants, a man had whipped out a pair of large shears, and began to trim the hedges.

He'd never done it before, but the sun was out, and his mind wasn't sane.

He didn't behave sluggishly, like all those outside, calmly striding out of his lascivious bedroom and tilting his chin to the sky.

The first thing the man did was to roam around his mansion, far too large for a single person. He peeked his head around the corner, strolled into every room. Whatever he was looking for wasn't there.

He hummed to himself, singing a song that he half made up, and half copied from a random song he'd heard at some point in his life.

Although his appearance remained casual, his steps had become more hurried.

In the end, he burst through the back doors to his overgrown garden, a jacket hanging low on his arms in a dissaray.

There, he saw her immediately.

Lying in a prickly bed of roses, at the center where a slab of stone sat, a woman quietly slept facing the sky. Her blonde hair pillowed around her, silky strands falling over the edges of the stone.

Alastair took large strides, stepping through the bushes as they dug into his skin, blood seeping through his pants.

He bent down, and picked up a hanging arm.

Gently, he pressed a single kiss on the back of the woman's hand. Apocalypse or reality, he would only live in the way that he desired. Perhaps nobody could understand their thinking, or the strange relationship between master and maid.

He walked over and picked up a pair of shears, and begun to trim his hedges.

——— XXX ———

There stood a clock tower alone, surrounded by debris and broken buildings. Several metal gears had fallen, crushing the wooden floor and bending the railings that wrapped around the stairs.

The face of the clock was half shattered, but the needle continued to tick a beat too slow.

A man, draped in a jacket made of shadows, stood at the bottom. Light flickered overhead through the cracks and seams of tear along the tower.

He seemed to hesitate for a second, standing with his head tilted to the top, an area beyond his vision.

Then, he lowered his head, frays of black falling over deep blue eyes, and chuckled to himself. It was amusing, the swirl of anxiety that existed.

His own hesitation. To think he'd feel this way again, so human after cycles of inhumanity.

His gaze lowered to his hands, the skin drawn with dozens of fine lines, as if woven by string. It was creepy and obscure to look at, his body littered with scars, held together by thread.

Perhaps it would revert to normality eventually, soothed by time. And perhaps it wouldn't.

A permanent reminder of what he had become.

The man sighed. It was really ugly to look at, his own skin. But here he was, in a place he couldn't have imagined before, at an ending never reached.

Here he was, debating whether to go up a simple pair of stairs. That was his grandest concern.

What a trivial concern.

"How long will you keep dawdling around down there?" an impatient voice wondered, their quiet voice reverberating from the top.

No matter how quiet, it was impossible for the man to not hear. It was a voice he'd taken special care to remember and listen for.

Subconsciously, a smile curled on Elias' lips.

The person above had the patience of a child, demanding once more in a bitter, tired voice.

"Hurry the fuck up."

Elias felt like a fool as he raised his hands to his lips, unable to smoothen the ridiculous smile into something calmer, something more charming.

The happiness in his voice couldn't be hidden. "Language, darling."

There was a dismissive hum as Elias took a step towards the broken stairs, sweeping past the debris as if there weren't gaps or holes. His ability to do that in itself was proof of what they'd suffered, how they'd been remade.

His steps took a faster pace, eager to reach the top. Shadows passed his lean figure, and he saw a nest of black hair peeking from the corners, beside the broken clock.

The man lying on the ground, gazing outside through the cracks in the clock said nothing.

Elias stopped a foot away, staring quietly. He breathed lightly, blinking thrice to see if everything would fade, if it were all a dream he was yet to wake from.

"I feel like I'm dreaming. Or that I've just woken from one." muttered the man with closed eyes, his chest rising and falling steadily. "That's stupid. I don't dream."

Elias continued to wait, standing to the side as he listened.

"Not even of me, darling?" teased the man with cerulean eyes, a twinkle of amusement.

"Especially not of you. That'd be a nightmare." replied the other with some disgust.

The light, a soft glow, fluttered between the raven strands of Lucas, his glazed eyes slowly opening to stare outside.

Softly, he said, "I can't see."

Panic seized Elias as he frowned. "What?" He took another step forward, hurried strides as he bent down and swivelled Lucas' head to face him.

Lucas' indifferent expression revealed a hint of amusement. "I'm joking." Then he paused. "Not entirely. I really can't see as well as I used to. If we were still in the Delusion, perhaps my eyes would've eventually healed."

Elias crouched quietly, still holding onto Lucas' chin as he scrutinised every curve on his face. "Do you regret it?"

Outside, there were two people bickering ceaselessly. With red faces, hot with anger and confusion, the argument escalated into a full brawl. People shouted and yelled, crying and pleading, venting their frustration in the only way they could anymore without the violence of Stories.

Was the 'right' decision to return the world back to what it was, without the madness of Stories?

Was reality really a salvation?

And maybe nothing had really changed. They were only fighting a new battle, on a different playing field. Thier ugly natures exposed in the Stories, their facade of normalacy stripped away to reveal the raw, hideous flesh underneath.

Even now, people would continue to fight and to argue, death would still occur from meaningless, pointless issues. For those who'd lost everybody, maybe it was the Delusion that gave them a purpose to keep persisting.

Lucas' eyes softened in contemplation, and he shook his head once.

"I don't regret it."

There was no longer regretting what had already been done.

At least in this way, he could protect those he cared about. His companions that fought for so long could finally rest and build a life that didn't revolve around survival. Although life in itself was essentially all about survival.

He didn't have the luxury to worry about the fates of every person remaining in the world, the suffering and emotions of them all.

For the sake of the children whose memory still remained vivid in his mind, for all those he fought alongside with, he would not regret this choice.

"Help me up."

"Since when do you ask for help?" wondered Elias languidly, though his arm looped around Lucas and pulled him standing. "What's the plan?"

"What? You'll stalk me wherever I go?"

"Are you telling me I can't? Although that'd be pointless, I do prefer doing as I please."

Lucas sneered, shoving the other aside as he stalked to the broken stairs. The uneven clock hand continued to tick behind him, the wide back telling of many sorrows. Elias fell into a short daze, watching Lucas walk away, under the illusion that he would disappear into the light like a fading illusion.

[A conclusion has met the requirements!]

Then he chuckled again at his own thoughts, and casually caught up by the other's side. Lucas shot him a glare, and said nothing as they walked down the broken stairs.

[The story of 'Everlasting End' is closing...]

A buzz came from Lucas' pocket, and the two men looked down in surprise.

"Your phone isn't dead?"

"Even if it was alive, it stopped working properly after the second Ranking."

"Well go on. Look at it."

Lucas frowned, loosely tugging the phone from his jacket pocket. It felt surreal, pulling out his phone, walking beside Elias underneath the sun lit skies. When would this feel normal again?

A familiar name was shown in bold on the screen, and Lucas' eyes widened slightly. Elias peeked over his shoulder casually, tipping his chin down to lean against the other. A sneaky hand went around Lucas' waist, and was immediately slapped.

Elias raised an eyebrow, and then looked at the phone that was tucked away again. Lucas started walking, this time, his steps with a little more confidence, a destination finally in mind.

Whether the normal became abnormal, or the abnormal became normal, it didn't matter.

So long as they remained living, so long as they remembered the warmth of the sun and the comfort of companionship, then it didn't matter if everything was pointless. If everything would fall back into terror one day, and another test would befall them all.

Lucas decided, none of that mattered at all.

Today, all that mattered, was his travels to a particular hospital, a meeting with one person he should've met again a long time ago.

The world was broken and terrible—it wasn't a wonderful place to live at all.

But this was the reality of their home; and for whatever life awaited them after destruction, they could only face it.

[The story of 'Everlasting End' has closed!]

——— XXX ———

Message from Lukiyo:

I'll leave my extended words in a seperate chapter. To those here, thank you for reaching the conclusion of Everlasting End. I am grateful beyong words can express, and though perhaps I've said similar things before and it may be repetative, I genuinely mean it.

This was a journey that took countless hours, but one I could never regret.

Thank you very much.