That didn't just happen, right? That Kratos-like hallucination just talked, just. Threatened Malos. And there's no way that could have happened, right? The world spins from under his feet, swimming like his mind his thoughts his vision. He's fucking hallucinating. Move. Move, Lloyd, move.
"Can't be," Lloyd breathes out, just loud enough to be heard. "Y-you left."
Staring in the general direction of where Kratos stands, the seemingly slow travel of his blood loud in his ears, Lloyd sluggishly raises an arm, holding it to his chest, right above where the locket rests below his jacket. What's he not putting together here? He thinks thinks thinks, frustration built with every piece placed and misconnected. He's forcing square blocks into circular holes, completely unable to put it all together.
It's the fucking worst.
Breaths coming out in short puffs, he slowly shakes his head, eyes narrowing in disbelief. Not him. Can't be him? Is it him? Does he want it to be him?
No.
Lloyd falls to his knees, no longer able to support himself. His wings help him drop down gently, beating hard against the weak air current of the cavern. A shuddering gasp escapes his mouth as he panics panics panics. He's useless and can't control himself Malos almost got hurt did get hurt Kratos is here and Lloyd is weak.
Count to ten.
One. Two. Three. Four.
One. Two. Three. Four. Ffffive?
Lloyd's head swims. He feels as sick as he can feel, as disconnected as his head is from his body.
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That didn't just happen, right? That Kratos-like hallucination just talked, just. Threatened Malos. And there's no way that could have happened, right? The world spins from under his feet, swimming like his mind his thoughts his vision. He's fucking hallucinating. Move. Move, Lloyd, move.
"Can't be," Lloyd breathes out, just loud enough to be heard. "Y-you left."
Staring in the general direction of where Kratos stands, the seemingly slow travel of his blood loud in his ears, Lloyd sluggishly raises an arm, holding it to his chest, right above where the locket rests below his jacket. What's he not putting together here? He thinks thinks thinks, frustration built with every piece placed and misconnected. He's forcing square blocks into circular holes, completely unable to put it all together.
It's the fucking worst.
Breaths coming out in short puffs, he slowly shakes his head, eyes narrowing in disbelief. Not him. Can't be him? Is it him? Does he want it to be him?
No.
Lloyd falls to his knees, no longer able to support himself. His wings help him drop down gently, beating hard against the weak air current of the cavern. A shuddering gasp escapes his mouth as he panics panics panics. He's useless and can't control himself Malos almost got hurt did get hurt Kratos is here and Lloyd is weak.
Count to ten.
One. Two. Three. Four.
One. Two. Three. Four. Ffffive?
Lloyd's head swims. He feels as sick as he can feel, as disconnected as his head is from his body.
Count to ten, Lloyd.
But he cannot.
Fine. Stand up Lloyd.
Stand up, Lloyd.
But he cannot.