[There's an arm across his shoulders all of a sudden, but he's too in his head to really react to it this time. Mista's words that shored him up before are rapidly weakening in the face of that corpse, and he's struggling to hang on. Maybe that's why he doesn't try to pull away from Mista, either; it's a little like an anchor, keeping him from drifting out to sea. His new argument would be a good one, too, except...]
That's not it.
[Or that's not all, is what he should say, perhaps, though it would've been enough to tempt him if it was. But the relic has an even more seductive promise for him:]
...It's saying I could undo it. Like none of it ever happened. She and her kid could be happy together until the end.
[If he's honest with himself, the only things stopping him are the fact that he doesn't know it'd work, and that he doesn't know if anyone else would get hurt. He'd be glad to die for it himself, if he had to, and the guilt burns hotter in his chest every moment he resists. Not trying feels a lot like killing her again.]
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That's not it.
[Or that's not all, is what he should say, perhaps, though it would've been enough to tempt him if it was. But the relic has an even more seductive promise for him:]
...It's saying I could undo it. Like none of it ever happened. She and her kid could be happy together until the end.
[If he's honest with himself, the only things stopping him are the fact that he doesn't know it'd work, and that he doesn't know if anyone else would get hurt. He'd be glad to die for it himself, if he had to, and the guilt burns hotter in his chest every moment he resists. Not trying feels a lot like killing her again.]