Elias Celeste's POV

A sigh escaped the barricades of my lips, as I watched Nico. His lips pressed against the hazy figurine, his eyes embodying the finest form of elation.

Yes, he'd only been united with what he'd perceived as ideal. A man of his dreams, a man whom he could call home, a man with whom he didn't have to play pretend.

A smile broke at the ends of lips as I watched the two of them drift, the figurine in his arms holding him tight. The warmth he would've provided would've been just ideal to make Yutaka believe, that he had actually been fine. And that, he would have an impeccable life ahead.

Of course, I couldn't intervene in the matters of those I perceived as love birds. Yutaka could find his reprieve in the arms of his loved one.

His life had succumbed to quietus against the blade, that his magnanimous mother had yielded. For the nightmare he'd witnessed had been nothing but a snippet of reality that had led him into my realm. The charred fluid he'd seen resulted from the abominable curse of humanity - an unaccepting conscience. It had been bizarre how these personages could resort to alienation, when it had been the same serenity of the sanguine flowing through his veins.

Nico. Nico Bianchi. Oh, how I wished he wouldn't have had to wither away from the face of the Earth. I had coveted, prayed even, for his soul. For the soul that had been pierced far too many times; it had been beyond repair, the gaping holes threatening to never stitch themselves up.

I had never witnessed the first primroses of agony as the herald of spring. For the internal warfare within his mother had been an unfathomable fulmination. Her son's anguish translated into a language, such that she knew only death could liberate him from.

However, he'd crossed over. Without much of a hassle that I'd previously endured. "Hope he finds solace," I muttered to myself, shaking my head and watching them drift away into the oblivion.

His wishful waking dream must be a sanctuary. It was the harken light of dawn and the symphony of the serene hues. It would be the moment of quiet reflection on a task well achieved. It would be the sense of inner peace that could only come of being his best self. A perfect partner. An unrivalled leman.

The white fog that had once blinded him had dissipated into nihility, ready to embrace another one who'd walk into my realm. And I had been rubbing my hands, generating heat, waiting for the next one who'd seek my help.

For I, the son of Morpheus, will uphold my duty until the end of time. Until I can no longer continue. Until the next wipe out gobbles up the whole of the universe, an opposite of The Big Bang.

"It's not all that you thought it would be. It twists and slithers."