The dark figure no longer felt the gaze as he floated back down, the view of the stars behind him disappearing as if it had never been there.
The window in the room the figure was in blew open as the figure vanished. Back on the battlefield, Robin was leaning on his harpoon for support when he felt a hand touch his shoulder followed by a whisper, "You did good. I am leaving. You can take care of the rest. You can have the armor and weapons; take it as an apology for putting you in your current state."
Raising his head to say something, Robin found no one behind him, but the coldness coming from his shoulder where he was touched assured him that everything was real.
That was the last straw for Robin. He let go of his weapon, falling to the ground as he laughed weakly, "We won."
The dark figure zoomed across the plain, matching Finn's flying speed. Soon, the sight of the ever-cold side of the northern continent appeared before the figure.
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
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