Chapter Text
'What? Don't tell me you don't remember how you died?' An anonymous voice spoke from the edges of the universe, like it was weaving a new path for Isaac. The realm was a muted blue with soft clouds that obscured parts of the sky.
Nothing felt real anymore and Isaac's blood still trickled from multiple parts of the head wound. However, it only felt like TV static now in this.. reality?
His hands clinged onto the Darkheart desperately even though the invisible guidance brought a soft touch to the soul. Isaac wasn't ready to admit his own defeat. No. He wanted to see the Robloxia he knew, he wanted to fix what he shattered by failure.
'Why can't I remember?'
Silence passed by and as Isaac felt a comb run through his bloody hair, that same voice spoke with an airy tone.
'You must have regrets and unresolved things back down at Robloxia. Tell me, Isaac, what are you fearing?'
Isaac's body squirmed in the soft float he was in, arm wrapping tighter around the Darkheart. His body felt warmer when the voice spoke, as if Telamon himself gave him mercy. Yet, he knows mercy is that of fake comfort. It's for the failures.
He still answered.
'I...I fear that I'll fade into obscurity, like everything I know will slip and my own soul will be lost to the sea.' Isaac's voice heald this unrecognizable emptiness and vulnerability that never would show through before.
"But you know that it's inevitable? You know that your body is left behind. You know they watched you bleed and the key fall just out reach. You, Isaac, let it happen. Every moment you stay here is another moment of insecurity, my vessel, have you forgotten.. your reality??"
.
.
.
Darkheart was right because the only thing that truly existsed was a rotting corpse beneath the helpless prisoners. They mourn what could have been a freedom, only for it to be another tragedy. Yet, who's fault was that... perhaps fate.. perhaps Isaac. You will never know and that is okay.
The only thing you may know is the way he hit the ground, the way his skull was split from impact. And even the way Isaac's eyes remain gaping with his mouth hung loosely. You know facts, not the true emotion that the writers of history hide.