Chapter Text
You thought you had done everything right.
Then again, perhaps that there was your biggest mistake. Nobody had ever succeeded at anything major on the first attempt- not unless luck happened to be on your side. Luck couldn’t play a single part in this entire act, however- though you weren’t quite aware of this. Not yet, at least.
While cheerfulness was paramount in such situations, you found such a thing was near-impossible to manage, now.
“You can only save one.”
That had to have been a lie. It must have been.
You hoped it to be so with the entirety of your being, and yet nothing could quell the violent nausea that overtook your senses as you dwelled drearily upon The Entity’s words. Whether it be from the uneasy tremble of the elevator or the inevitability of the truth sinking its claws inch-deep into your consciousness, you knew not.
Niko could detect your anxiety almost immediately, small hands tightening around yours comfortingly. They tugged lightly, calling your name in that lilting voice sweeter than maple syrup. Snapping out of such a hazy daze proved to be a laborious task, but you needed to regain your senses quickly before they caught on that something was wrong. Niko was but a child, yes- but they were alarmingly keen for their age. Nothing escaped those eyes of theirs, honey-gold and more luminous than the sun itself.
They were so warm, those eyes.
“Hm?” you blinked, smiling kindly down at the young messiah and gazing into their large, inquisitive eyes. “I’m sorry, I must have spaced out there for a second. Are you feeling okay, Niko?”
Niko nodded slowly, delicately cradling the sun with their free arm. Their watchfulness had suddenly become unbearable to you, the vertigo making you sway.
“You got really quiet,” they said, seemingly transfixed onto you. They frowned, little fangs glinting from the soft glow of the light bulb. “Are you okay?”
“At least tell Niko the truth. You DO care about Niko, don’t you?”
You silently grit your teeth, taking specific care not to clench your fists lest you’d risk hurting Niko’s little hand. You’d sooner die than hurt Niko.
How dare this… this THING talk to you like this. How dare it insinuate that you were frivolous as to shirk your duty in such a manner.
You laughed cheerlessly, gently rubbing their hand with your thumb from beneath the fabric of their oversized sleeves. Inwardly, you withered and curled like the blackened tips of a sunflower’s petals.
“Niko, sweetheart. I...”
You were not a perfect God. You knew this- the Spirit of the world knew this.
Niko and the denizens of this world were blissfully unaware of such a carefully-crafted facade, buying into the plastic smiles and bewitching laughter as you shrugged away their concerns and drank in their awes and prayers at witnessing a living God. Sometimes you’d indulge to bask in their glow, and other times you would shyly decline their worship and provided them the breathless promise of salvation. You and the little Messiah, Niko, would not fail. You couldn’t. That wasn’t how stories like this were supposed to end.
You loved this world. Really, you did.
But not more than this child.
The lonely robot maiden milling in the cerulean sahara of the Barrens, the jovial bird siblings that frolicked beneath the starry skies- even that bumbling fool of a lamplighter who nearly spilled liquid phosphor all over your clothes. Each and every one of them meant something to you, each their own star in the galaxy of the heart.
You were a God.
You were supposed to be able to find a way out of this.
The tides catch up with you, whisking you away beneath its current and squeezing the life from your lungs. You cannot surface with such pitiful resolve, lost at sea in the ocean of your thoughts.
Slowly, tenderly; you drown.
You loved Niko. You loved them so, so much.
So you lied.
“Everything is going to be okay,” you exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, assuring yourself more than you were the saviour. “I can fix this.” You hummed serenely, fabricating tranquility and swaying Niko’s hand in yours and if they were your own child.
You are trembling and rattling like a dead leaf in the midst of winter’s fugue, and Niko opens their mouth to speak- but hastily closes it and accompanies you wordlessly into the pillar of the illustrious tower. They are worried, and they see vividly the elongated shadows you are desperately stifling in the confines of your heart. You pretended Niko was none the wiser, in hopes of repelling the apprehension.
The view of the world from above was empyreal, the unending shade of red velvet, jade green and dreamy blue muddling together into a singular portrait of celestial beauty. The scenery was breathtaking- the world small and sprawling before you.
You squeezed your eyes shut and gingerly pressed the palm of your hand against the crystalline glass, fingers gliding a trail and smearing fingerprints amidst the view. So beautiful. So serene.
This world was as fragile as the bulb Niko whisked away in their small arms; more frail than the heart of the worthless God who cannot bear to crush the child with the weight of the truth.
You opened your eyes finally, gazing down lovingly upon the world who deserved much, much better than unforgiving darkness and a life of anguish.
You approach Niko quietly, kneeling over and extending a hand out towards the sun, its warmth soothing to your fingertips and crackling with the life energy you had poured so meticulously into it.
“Do you trust me, Niko?” you rasped, tapping the sun with a fingernail, covetously entranced by it’s light.
Niko does not miss a single beat.
“Of course I do,” they pipe up, reclaiming your hand in theirs as if it had rightfully belonged to them all along. Niko was miserably lost without your guidance; or perhaps they had simply grown dependant on your maternal affection. A temporary replacement for their mother- but it shall not be that way for much longer.
The end would be swift and painless for all of them.
None of them would feel a thing. It was ideal- they’d never know the world had ended in the blink of an eye.
You lied to them. You lied to Niko.
Your duty is to your people, but you're going to neglect that, too?
But it was better this way, you begged, it truly, truly was.
You repeated this to yourself endlessly, as if it were a sacred mantra.
It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s better this way. You’re doing this because you loved them. You loved them all more than your throbbing, bleeding heart could possibly bear.
Your burden was far from light.
“I need you to break the sun, Niko.”
Their bright eyes widened further in disbelief, abhorred with the suggestion. They stutter and gaze longingly up at you with a pensive sheen, whimpering softly.
“But that’ll… that’ll end the world, won’t it?”
You shook your head, retracting your hand from the sun and clasping Niko’s with both of yours. This would be your final bluff, weaving for the two of you this grandiose illusion of safety before the curtains would close forever on the scene.
“It won’t,” you promised, grasping their hand resolutely, not at all surprised with their sudden streak of doubt.
“But that robot in the Barrens, they said that if I dropped it, then-”
“Their information was outdated, my dear. They even mispronounced my name, remember?” You chuckled breezily, feeling as though you’d break into a thousand pieces in an instant.
Niko takes your hand with gentle hesitance, tentatively curling their hands around yours.
“I know so. Please believe me, Niko.”
Niko goes rigid, rubbing circles on your palm as if testing the authenticity of what was really there in front of them; if it was really you who was there. They seemed terrified that at any given moment, you would burst into a shower of light and dissipate into the nothingness, forever. You were not the only one with something at stake, here.
“This burden should never have been yours to bear, my dear. And I’m so sorry you had to get caught up in all of this,” your voice broke in that moment, perhaps the only genuine show of emotion you’d shown Niko, aside from your ageless obsession with the retention of their well-being.
Oh, if only that were enough.
“Don’t be sorry,” they mewled, “I’m glad this world has a God as nice as you. I don’t know if this will work, but I… I trust your judgement.”
Niko was smarter than that. Somewhere deep down, they knew the truth, perhaps. They wanted to believe that you would not lie, and that you really did have the integrity to impart with them the ultimate truth.
You reach over to touch the base of the lightbulb, right as Niko murmured your name again.
“Hey,” they began, tiny voice reduced to a strained whisper.
“I’m scared. W-Will I really be able to go home…?”
They began to cry.
Small beads of anguish marble in the corners of their amber eyes, cascading like waterfalls down their plump cheeks. You wiped them away for Niko, wanting to keep their scarf clean. It pained you too much to see them like this.
“Thank you for everything,” they sniffed, padding themselves using their shoulder to wipe their flowing tears clean off, and unexpectedly-
“I love you.”
The heavens rustle no longer and the sea has gone quiet.
Your heart sunk as the words foolishly fled you, the time spent and cherished on your pointless crusade with Niko struggling on your lips.
“I love you too,” you mustered, willpower scattering into a million pieces, like stars without the allure of space.
You took the sun from their hands and Niko slams into you, a sobbing mess.
They too, steadily wilt.
Their arms snake defensively around your body and they bury their head in your chest, the scent of buttermilk pancakes wafting pleasantly over to your senses as you rocked them in your arm.
“Shh, it’s going to be alright,” you cooed.
"What's going to happen to you?" They spoke in between hiccups.
You wished you could validate them with an honest answer.
“This is just a bad dream Niko. If possible, when you go back, I… I want you to forget everything about me, please. Even my name.” you croaked, tilting backwards as your grip on the light bulb’s base slackened. They shook their head fervently, defiant.
“Never, I’ll never forget about you-” they wailed over and over, so much that you cannot begin to decipher their blubbering as words. “Never, never, never-”
It will be quick.
It will be painless.
But not for the two of you.
“Please take care of yourself, dear,” you wept, shuddered, and allowed for the sun to shatter against the floor.
…
You can hear the rustling of the golden stalks bowing regally against the breeze. A luminous, heavenly warmth pours from an open door you cannot see, bathing you in a radiance you only wished you could keep locked away forever.
It is only when Niko is gone that you truly comprehend how cold it really was, now.
But you screwed your eyes shut yet again and clasped your hands together as if in prayer, sobbing hysterically whilst grinning to yourself.
You couldn’t look. Or else you knew you would start screaming and begging for Niko to come back, entreating for them to stay.
They were crying your name.
You shook your head, and did not answer. This was for the best. Niko deserved all of the happiness in the world, and you had set another ablaze to accomplish this.
You wanted this, you told yourself.
You wanted them to be happy. You wanted them to move on. You wanted them to forget that you and the world ever existed, so it would rest easy on their conscience. In the end, your own good intentions had backfired.
Soon they calm, little cat feet pattering into the distance as if resigning to the fate you’d thrown them to, as the scene for you drew to a close. They stopped once, perhaps to turn back (but you wouldn't look, no, that would absolutely kill you and what remained of your slipping sanity,) before scuffling into the distance, where the wind blew gently upon your face.
You turned over on your side, lamenting the unshakable ache that you are certain will never disperse itself. It is only when you have exhausted yourself of tears that you drift away from consciousness, dreaming of Niko’s laughter, the way their scarf fluttered and flapped in the breeze- and their eyes that shone brighter than the sun.
.
..
...
And so eternity was cut too short.