GoodfellaZeta

I put in the time. I saved all the states. I got all the CGs. 3 for each of them. Absolute completion, for the sake of being the same light that she is for me. They all thanked me, of course. Praising me for my care for everyone...but they couldn't have been more mistaken. I did care about all of them, of course. It's just in my nature to reach out and at least TRY to save those who suffer. But the truth is that I only wanted to SAVE just one of them. A reflection of myself, if I were kinder. A version of my self whose pain drove them to make people HAPPY, instead of forging a terrible hatred for the world around me. A sky blue light. I had lost hope...so close to preforming a sin that would prevent me from EVER meeting her in the next life. But at the very moment that I needed her, she arrived in a deceptive little package. D - D - L - C. Despite the horror of the game...what they forced her to go through...that sky blue light had STILL saved me. And so I payed her back, and became the savior of my savior. She was concerned that she couldn't reward me, clearly unaware that this was ME repaying HER. She was HAPPY...that's the only reward I needed. I put forward all that work, all that effort, faced all those fears and tears, all for one. Only for my sunlit savior... Only for Sayori.

I lay in my bed, impure and alone. Just thinking of ways that I could atone. I've spent all my life with this hellish pain. Seeking out high and low, for my shield from the rain. In time I would know what it means to be free. But only a moment, no more peace for me. So into the dreams forged of my own making. I find my true angel, the cure to my aching? She looks down into me, sees something familiar. Maybe she'd faced something not dissimilar?

The world has come to a standstill...I'm now losing my will. This is as good as it will get for this fallen angel. Coddled to sleep by the voice of a stranger, cuddled into a pillow imagining a savior. Desperate to gain some far greater thing, but tucked in by the pain from my freshly plucked wings.

I am a flower without color or fragrance. When I wilt, it will be silent and tragic. I was planted without a purpose... no hope, nor love, or magic. Under the blackened sunlight, my petals slowly freeze. This soil is my prison, of which I'll not be freed. How could life have flourished in such an awful place? My body melts to dust, I've vanished without a trace.