There was no one else here, and Damon had no idea when she had actually arrived.
They had been intending to et Abellona these past few days, so they had tracked her down. However, unlike Xander, she wasn’t soone his party mbers knew on a personal level. She was, after all, the empire’s princess.
So in the end, Xander had sent a formal invitation with all of their nas on it, intending to invite her to join them, or at least negotiate terms and agreents.
Just that Damon didn’t know when she ca, much less that she would have him cornered like this.
Her hand on his shoulder was soft, and her scent was familiar.
There was no one on this balcony. Just the two of them.
So she leaned in closer.
"My, a love letter..." she murmured. "I never pegged you as the romantic type."
Damon forced a smile, though it was weary and tired.
He lifted the paper slightly, looking at the two words he’d written.
I love you.
This was ant for his sister.
But Abellona had seen it, and she clearly wasn’t leaving anyti soon.
She didn’t have a chair to sit on, so she moved to the table instead, sitting close. Too close. Her form blocked his view, forcing him to lift his face slightly to et her red eyes.
"I don’t believe in romance," Damon said quietly. "Or... I didn’t. But suppose it exists..."
His voice was low. Calm.
Abellona’s gaze never left him.
"After having your way with , you better believe in romance, Damian."
Damon chuckled faintly.
Right. That na.
The one he’d given her when they were fighting Ashcroft. He hadn’t wanted her to find him afterward, especially since he’d groped her in more ways than one and seen parts of her no princess would ever forgive being seen.
She wouldn’t let that go.
He would’ve said sothing shaless.
But this ti, Damon stayed quiet.
Now that he was writing this letter, his death felt more and more real. It wasn’t sothing distant anymore, sothing theoretical.
It was here.
He could see it.
And that was why he understood.
The cult spreading wasn’t the goal anymore, it was collateral montum.
This mattered.
Damon was no longer accelerating hate because he wanted victory.
He was letting it burn because he wouldn’t be here to see the aftermath.
That was colder than ambition.
That was resignation, weaponized.
Behold a man with nothing to lose.
And for so reason, that realization stirred sothing faint in him.
lancholy.
Abellona watched him for a while, then sighed.
"You know... after you stole my ring and my dignity, attempted to fake your death, among the long list of things you’ve done, I thought that if I ever found you, I would do terrible things to you. And you’d probably try to deflect."
She glanced down, her eyes softer now.
"I rember the man who arrogantly faced Ashcroft, the Demon Lord of Domination. The man who feared nothing. He told many things, so of them lies, but when he was sincere... he moved ."
She clenched her hand slightly.
"He convinced I could be more than Abellona of Destruction."
Damon smiled faintly.
"I’m glad I could be of help."
Her fist tightened.
"He also made agree to pay him billions of zeni," she added flatly. "And that man who loves money would never forget to collect."
Damon shook his head.
Right.
She still owed him money.
Oh well.
He wouldn’t be needing it where he was going.
She lifted his chin with a finger, forcing his gaze up. Her red eyes t his dark ones.
"I’ve spent most of my life on the battlefield," she said. "I’ve seen the faces of soldiers when they stop caring—when the passion dies and the flas in their hearts go out."
Her gaze flicked to the letter.
"So of them write letters to their loved ones, thinking a piece of paper can absolve them of their selfishness. It doesn’t. It never does."
Her face tightened.
"All it becos is a violent mory of who they were."
She forced her hands to steady, though they trembled.
"You’re not the first suicidal person I’ve t. You won’t be the last. But..."
Her voice cracked just slightly.
"Now that it’s happening to soone I care for... it hurts a lot more than watching comrades I fought beside waste away and give up."
Damon didn’t know how to feel hearing her frustration.
He’d seen that sa expression before, on Lilith’s face.
"I never really believed in living," Damon said quietly. "We weren’t asked to be born. We’re products of this world against our will. So of us just have it worse than others."
He glanced at her.
"And frankly... it gets tiring."
He exhaled slowly.
"If you’re here to tell to live because the world is beautiful or so shit like that, you’re wasting your ti. My death isn’t because I’m afraid to live."
His eyes hardened.
"It’s my way of giving the middle finger to the divine. To fate. It might seem pathetic to you, but to , it’s my last scream against the ultimate oppressors."
She bit her lip.
"You’re mad."
He shook his head.
"No. I was just never sane."
His mind was made up. Begging wouldn’t change it.
So she did the opposite.
"How cowardly," she spat. "So you’re afraid of losing, so you tap out. Too scared to finish the ga you started, because it looks like you’ll lose."
His brow furrowed.
That hit a nerve.
She looked down at him.
"If you die now, you won’t escape responsibility. You’ll just leave it to lesser hands."
She crossed her arms.
"You run away and leave your troubles to others. How noble. You must be really good at running away."
Damon’s gaze hardened.
She’d struck sothing raw.
Did she really think anyone could win against the Unknown God?
No one could.
That thing wasn’t made to lose. It wrote the rules and could change them freely.
This wasn’t defeat.
This was defiance.
Abellona stood.
"Now that you’re dying, I guess there’s no need to pick up where he left off. And here I thought we had a future together."
Her voice turned ice-cold.
"Good luck. I hope you die less painfully—no, on second thought, I hope you suffer a slow and agonizing one."
She turned to leave.
"Oh, wait. I need to take sothing before I go."
Damon turned—
And she grabbed him.
She kissed him forcefully.
Then pulled away.
"I’m not even with you yet," she said coldly. "But if you live, I’ll get even."
She left.
Damon closed his eyes.
A single thought passed through his mind without hesitation.
He squeezed the letter—
And it dissolved into ash.
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