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Nate was going to die.

He understood this.

He had done it, before.

Threadbare memories tangled in the dark: Men laughing. Wolves growling. Hate, twisting together.

And love, suffusing the space around. Blue and brilliant, an omen of utmost defeat.

Nate had been here, before. Laying in his own blood, watching cruelty's unapologetic blade cut through every hope he ever had. And though he'd thought about it often in the months since the first awakening, he'd realized, when his legs gave out, that he didn't want to die. For a myriad of reasons:

It was Cecil and Elk Charm and Samo and Rin. Elwood, Chakliux, Mithwyth. Vaelora, Tamaska... even Nat. Even Ko-Ga. Especially Ko-Ga.

Somehow, they'd woven themselves into his life and made it all matter.

The last thing he saw before the darkness became absolute were chains broken loose. The last echo in his ears were words of forgiveness.

He had a little time to introspect, after that. To wonder why the relief still ached. He'd told himself a hundred times he didn't need to see the sun rise as long as he could assure it would do so for the others...

But now, now he wished he could witness their faces. Now he knew, if Cecil saw the sky take color again they would not smile after learning what it had cost.

And...

And...

It wasn't simply that Nate did not want to die.

It was — that he wanted to live.

He wanted to start again.