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Something was pushing down on him now. As if gravity had suddenly quadrupled. He could feel it there on his back. The added pressure. Almost like the foot of a giant. Was it real? An actual giant pinning him down?

He discarded the questions as soon as they entered his mind. Distractions. Unimportant. Didn’t matter if it was real or not. Didn’t matter if the Mad Demon himself was sitting on his back, right now.

The only thing that mattered was reaching Kerikos.

His muscles ached. Fatigue struck.

But so what?

His body didn’t want to listen to him?

So what? He was in charge, not his body.

He could hardly think straight?

So what? There was only one thing to think about, anyway.

Time stretching away from him?

So what? Time could stretch for a thousand years. Vito would crawl for a thousand and one.

The entire world was unraveling around him? Peeling away from his vision like a torn painting?

So. What.

He crawled. And kept crawling. Ignoring all the rest. Everything else.

And finally, he reached his reaper. With his lone hand, he grabbed the lump of soul power that was Kerikos and pulled him close.

And he breathed. He didn’t know what to do now, but that was fine. For the moment, that was fine. He could figure that out later.

Ground shaking.

Whatever.

Kerikos was alive. But just barely. Completely unconscious. Unable to reinitiate the hyperstate. Problem? Mm. Maybe for the best. Might not have been able to maintain it for much longer, anyway.

Tired.

Absurdly so.

Not sure he’d ever felt so tired before. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t recall. Wanted to slip off. To sleep. To rest. Deserved it, didn’t he? Such a long day. Time to let go.

...Except.

Bother. There was a bother. Still. Somehow. Somewhere.

Back of his mind. Couldn’t grasp it. But it was there. Scratching at him. Yelling at him. Familiar faces with familiar voices. So familiar. And yet, he felt certain that he’d never seen them before. How could that be?

They were reaching out to him. And he heard what they were saying. Just a bit. Just enough.

“Not yet.”

His palm found the hard earth. And after a moment, his other palm found it, too. Regrown. Still regenerating. Slow but steady.

His bare skin felt the grass again. And the cool air.

No. Not cool, actually. Extremely warm. An intense heat. Had he set himself on fire again? That didn’t seem right.