[ ... This isn't what he wanted out of this conversation, and he definitely can't tell her what's on his mind to cheer her up, because he has a sneaking suspicion that all is not right in the place they've arrived in, dead or no. He especially feels as though telling her that he very distinctly remembers getting stabbed from behind by a surprise attack from an alien supersoldier might be a bad idea too.
He also doesn't want to tell her that, right after he woke up, he regained something from a past life. A distinct memory of a beautiful, perfect ocean, reflecting the sky like glass. He remembers it was the final world. A place to rest before one as a person, heart, body, and soul, moved on. A confirmation of what just happened to him.
She isn't alone, here. But anything he feels like he could tell her on that front feels like it'd be shaming her for having hope. ]
I hope we did. Maybe we're both dreaming. [ He looks back down at Beacon and begins to walk down the ramp, down to the dock, past people boarding the ship for other things, he supposes. ] At least, I know this isn't what I thought heaven or hell would look like.
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He also doesn't want to tell her that, right after he woke up, he regained something from a past life. A distinct memory of a beautiful, perfect ocean, reflecting the sky like glass. He remembers it was the final world. A place to rest before one as a person, heart, body, and soul, moved on. A confirmation of what just happened to him.
She isn't alone, here. But anything he feels like he could tell her on that front feels like it'd be shaming her for having hope. ]
I hope we did. Maybe we're both dreaming. [ He looks back down at Beacon and begins to walk down the ramp, down to the dock, past people boarding the ship for other things, he supposes. ] At least, I know this isn't what I thought heaven or hell would look like.