[It's the only sound in this quiet mansion now - that gross, wet crying. But as Sieghart remains there, he'll realize that it isn't just Flayn's sightless eyes that have fallen upon him. Rather, every single person felled in this room now looks his way, even if that means their heads have bent and snapped at unnatural angles. He's the sole performer on a stage without a spotlight, the audience rapt in their attention.
Souji himself seems to be degenerating in a strange way, too. He cries and grows thin, emaciated, sickly and unwell, near-blue skin and deep circles, and he begs and begs for Sieghart to stay.
Sieghart could kill him, if he wanted to. He could perhaps simply leave back through the door he'd come from, just the same. It's not like anyone is here to stop him.]
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Souji himself seems to be degenerating in a strange way, too. He cries and grows thin, emaciated, sickly and unwell, near-blue skin and deep circles, and he begs and begs for Sieghart to stay.
Sieghart could kill him, if he wanted to. He could perhaps simply leave back through the door he'd come from, just the same. It's not like anyone is here to stop him.]