^{In the suffocating light of new existence, he breathed his presence like air—} the voιd had numbed him far more than he’d realized within it. His emotions had never left him, but they had faded against his notice, and the startling reality of living in his old world, however short it might turn out to be, he began to feel the rush of their return.

He stamped the feeling down at the start, stealing away doubt to enjoy the biting cold snow he once viewed in bitterness, now turned a beautiful reminder that he was truly there.

           But things always, always had to change, and when the day was long and bright it could only turn itself over to the dark once more.

The single hand on his back was all that weighed him down—_{to keep him from fading}—but it did more than serve its purpose, blanketing his quaking frame with gentle assurance. He felt so much guilt leaving a mess on the other’s poor, abused sweater, inky black tears leaving cold trails in their wake and scalding heat where they inched downward—their color always reminding GASTER that he would never again be the same.