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Clay's POV

Clay sobbed as he gently shook George's face, "George­― George! Wake up. Y-you can't leave me. Please."

George's head fell limply in Clay's hands. Clay whimpered and he pressed his forehead to George's. His voice cracked, "Nononono, please no. Anyone but you. G-George, I need you."

Clay's chest shook as he sobbed. He looked around the room wildly. The room began to fill with people, all who were staring in shock. Clay shouted at them to do something, but they were all frozen.

Alyssa burst through the door and ran to Clay. She slid onto her knees and took George's face from Clay's hands. She examined him and yelled for help. Several guards came to her aid.

Clay's ears were ringing in shock. He couldn't hear any voices, all he could see was George, George's lifeless body as it was hauled away. He could've sworn he saw George's chest rise, but Clay was convinced that he was hallucinating.

Alyssa said something to him, but Clay didn't hear. He still sat on the floor, numbly staring at where George just was. Alyssa hurried away and the room started to clear out.

Clay stared at his bloodied hands, tears slowing, and he whispered, "I-I did this. I should've protected him."

Clay took a shaky breath before whispering, "It's all my fault."

Again.

He squeezed his eyes shut as the situation hit him. George is dead.

"W-why does everyone I love die in my arms?" he muttered weakly, his voice trembling.

Clay sobbed. His hands shook as he fisted them. He looked over to Bad's dead body.

He wished he could blame Bad, but Clay was the one to blame. I could've saved him... I could've saved George.

"It should've been me."

Clay's shoulders sagged as the sentence left his mouth.

"It should've been me."

Me

Me

Me

Not him.

Anyone but him.

Clay gritted his teeth as he tried to stop his tears. There was no point, they just kept flowing. He walked over to Bad's body.

He bent down and grabbed Bad's sword from its sheath. He stood up and shook his head at Bad. Bad was dead, there was nothing Clay could do about that.

Clay clenched his jaw and left the room, heading for the holding rooms.

His tears stopped and a wave of calm settled over him. A feeling of pure determination and cold hatred seeped into his bones. Clay shoved all of his emotions away and let his instinct take over.

He tightened his grip on the sword and approached the door.

The guard tried to stop him, but Clay ordered him to back down. The guard reluctantly complied and opened the door.

Nihachu turned to face him. "What a pleasant surpr―"

Her grin faltered at the blood on Clay's hands.

She flinched as her eyes met cold, hateful ones. "Dream? What are you doing here?"

Clay shoved her against the wall and pointed the sword at her throat. He snarled, "Don't play games with me Nihachu."

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