The last moments of Gervaise's life seemed to last an eternity. He could feel his life slipping away from him, but all he could do was sigh. It seemed that in the end, he hadn't been able to accomplish what he had promised.
He had carried this weight on his shoulders for so long, that guilt.
He could still remember every moment of the destruction of the Fawkes family, how many people sacrificed their lives just so that he could survive.
Not a single one of them acted out selfishly. Even though it was all his fault, even though they would have been just fine if he had never been born, they still went above and beyond, sacrificing themselves to the last man…
And then he remembered his own father.
Prometheus Fawkes.
That broad back, those shoulders that seemed to hold up the skies, and that stoic sort of smile that rarely came out and yet carried with it the grace of an Emperor.