Broken Vessel (event)
Despite everything, we fight to a standstill. With each clash, yet more of our wills annihilate each other, leaving us both lesser, incomplete, and broken.
I do not know how much time has passed until I once again emerge from the ruined sanctum of my mind. The air is still, stale, and stagnant. Only dust remains of the mask, and, if not for my skin, only dust would have remained of me.
#B Is there anything left of me?