WE'VE ONLY JUST BEGUN, HYPNOTIZED BY DRUMS

UNTIL FOREVER COMES

YOU'LL FIND US CHASING THE SUN

He wakes up, startled, and sits up with a gasp.

It's been several hours since what happened.

Dawn is already here, and I feel more and more like shit.

His face shows a mix of confusion and pain as he brings his hands to his head, massaging his temples as if trying to push the fog from his mind.

He barely notices the complaint he lets out, but his fingers tense, wanting to anchor him in reality, bringing him back to the moment.

"Hello," I say, half-heartedly.

He turns his head toward me. My face expressionless.

I watch him from my spot on the floor, where I've been sitting all night, in the same clearing as before. Watchful for any danger, wondering if he'll wake up again.

Wondering if Clancy will come back.

"Hello..." he whispers, his eyes scanning the space, looking for something that seems like it won't come back.

"He's not back," I say, my voice heavy, not wanting to be here. "Are you okay?"

It's not a real "okay" I'm looking for, because I don't even know if that exists for someone in his place, after everything that's happened.

I just want a sign that he's still there, that he's still him.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands.

At first he doesn't respond. He barely moves, just breathes, slow and forced.

I wonder if he knows I'm still here, that there's still someone willing to listen, even if it's silence.

After a few minutes, he sighs deeply and lifts his face.

His eyes look dark, exhausted, but also filled with an almost palpable fear, as if he still hears Clancy's voice whispering to him somewhere.

"I can't believe he's still alive..."  he murmurs, barely audible. "I thought he was gone forever. I hit him." I killed him, dammit...''  his voice breaks ''If only I had made sure he was alive. I'm such a fool...''

His body trembles, his back shaking. I decide to lift me up and sit me next to him.

The first rays of light peek through the clearing. The sun is just beginning to wake up.

"Clancy..."  I say his name quietly, my chest aching. "Do you think... there's anything left of him? Anything other than that... thing they've turned him into."

Elliot looks at me, and for a moment he doesn't seem to know what to say. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as if the answer hurts too much to come out. When he speaks, his voice is laden with bitterness.

"I don't know..."

My chest feels tight, as if the words can't escape.

The thought gnaws at me, the possibility that Clancy is trapped, that the version of him I knew is trying to survive somewhere, barely visible.

"So?"  My voice barely comes out, but I know he hears me.

He looks at me, fear still in his eyes. But there's something else, too, something that seems to slowly light up in her gaze. Maybe it's just a spark of what's left.

''So, if there's anything left, Rabbit, I'll find it. I'll get him out of that... darkness. Even if it means facing the worst of DEMA. ''  His voice hardens, as if the words were an oath set in stone.

The tension, the fear, and that same promise she just made... there's no rest in a place like that.

But, even if she doesn't say it out loud, I know that, whatever happens, I'm also determined to keep going.

''What are we going to do now? ''  I ask, almost afraid.

He gets up, still in pain. The light of dawn illuminates his face and he wipes his tears with his sleeve. 

''We're going to get help to save him '' he smiles ''We won't deviate from the plan. Banditos' Camp''

I also get up and stand next to him. We both look at the beautiful sunrise. This almost seems like a movie where the main characters look epically at the horizon, armed to defeat evil.

The only thing is that I'm not important.

Our appearance is terrible.

And we have nothing.

''Elliot...''

''Mmm...?''

''We left our things behind...''

''Shit...''

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

We're screwed.

But we decided to go on without our stuff.

We can't go back. It's impossible.

Besides, we don't have time.

We have to move forward.

Elliot walks ahead, silent, shoulders tense, as if every step brings him closer to someone discovering us.

I've barely slept, but I don't even feel tired; fear and urgency keep my body going, and him too.

"How do you know him?"  Elliot breaks the silence after a while walking through the woods. "You promised me you'd tell me, remember?"

I'm surprised he remembers, that he still has room in his mind for it after everything that's happened.

I hesitate a moment, pressing my lips together. Talking about Clancy feels like ripping out a part of myself and exposing it to the icy atmosphere.

"He..."  I start, but I feel my voice crack. "I met him at DEMA, before he... before he left." My tone comes out flat, with a bitterness that almost surprises me.

Elliot doesn't say anything, but I notice his walk slowing, as if he's trying to process each word. I feel like I have to tell him everything, no matter how much it hurts.

''We shared a wall... a wall that was all that separated us. I don't even remember how it started, but we got used to talking, to whispering... to sharing things. Clancy... he used to write songs. He even... '' I look at the floor, looking for a point to focus my thoughts''wrote some for me, simple things. Sometimes I could hear him playing them for someone else... someone... important''

Elliot remains silent, although his breathing is heavy, as if he's somehow feeling the weight of each word.

''But then everything changed '' I say, my voice shaking. ''He tried to escape several times, although the bishops always caught him. He caught him. They pressured him, Elliot. They wanted... they wanted him to keep composing, even at the cost of his health. The nights were horrible; they wouldn't let him sleep. When he tried to rest, they would come in and beat him, threaten him... I remember one night in particular...''

The images of the memory flood over me, as if they were happening again, as if I could still hear the creaking of the door opening and his screams in the darkness.

''That night I woke up with a start. I heard him scream. I don't know exactly what they did, but they tore him apart''  My voice trails off.  ''I went to the door, asked him how he was. And he told me, through tears...'' I stop, my words barely a whisper ''...that his head hurt. He also told me that the next day he was having a party in a...submarine.

Pause. My God, I don't want to keep talking.

''That was the last time I saw him, heard him...until that day in the tower. Until now...''

Elliot clenches his fists, but doesn't say anything for a long time. I feel the weight of my words grow tangible in the air, as if he were carrying it, too.

Finally, he nods, slowly, and keeps walking, each step accompanied by a silence that envelops him, as if he were processing Clancy's pain and his own as well.

"I'm sorry, Rabbit," he finally says, his voice soft, broken. "No one should... have to go through something like that. Not even in DEMA."

I nod silently, though I don't know if pain can really be shared or understood.

We keep walking, the memory of Clancy chasing us in the gloom, and I know we're getting closer.

It's noon. We've gone a few more miles.

"We're here..."  Elliot announces.

He's supposed to look happy, but he has an unnerving expression on his face.

We glimpse the camp in the distance.

We both quicken our pace, though there's an uneasiness in the air, something in the silence that shouldn't be there, as if the world itself is holding its breath.

Elliot is about to call out when he suddenly stops, frowning at me, as if he too notices the absence, the emptiness of the landscape before us.

As we get closer, he becomes unmistakable. The smell of ash, the torn tarps flapping in the wind, and the stillness—a crushing stillness.

"No... "  Elliot steps forward, almost running toward what remains of the tents.

His body seems to shake, but he doesn't stop.

He runs from one shattered tent to another, opening each one, as if by peering in, he'll find a hidden miracle.

But there is nothing.

Not a sound.

No one alive.