MAR Heaven was once a beautiful world, he knew.


Now it was a landscape of disarray, and foreign to him; the trees that had seemed to wave, now hiding behind their branches to whisper words that, if he heard it in the wind, sounded like "monster"; the rocky face of a cliff had smiled at him before, but now frowned upon him, rough and angry; the waves that had struck his feet on sand playfully, now hissed and shrieked...

And yet it didn't look any different.

I no longer belong here. I don't belong anywhere.

MAR Heaven didn't want him anymore. No, it didn't need him. Funny, as he had worked so hard to protect this place, to be hated like this.

He really didn't deserve this. A monster didn't deserve such hate.

Now he understood why Phantom had just broke. He couldn't take such pain and loathe from a world that wanted him out. That orb really had nothing to do with it after all. Diana had nothing to do with it. The zombie tattoo had only escalated the emotions he had possessed, all the agony, despair, and disgust this world had thrown at him, telling him just to fucking die already. And he had thrown it back.

MAR Heaven was really corrupt. It threw aside everything that had done his part, and was no longer needed. It really was selfish.

I saved its ass, and after wards it wants me to suffer. A brilliant way to use reverse psychology. Too bad it's not working.

He kicked angrily at the ground, successfully uprooting a clump of dirt. If he had not become what he was, would he have been resented so much?, definitely yes. I would've been hated nonetheless.

A sneering voice laughed in his mind, fake mirth resonating in his brain.

Hatred spares no one.

Throw it back, like Phantom.

This world has been appreciated for far too long.

MAR Heaven would not get him without his fighting back.

It's time to change this.

He absolutely HATED MAR Heaven.

It had taken him long enough to realize this, what had held him back? The little, rather meaningless, he thought now, memories of people he had barely known, when they had fought to save this place; did they know, how the world could turn faces so unexpectedly? He had spent so little time with them; how could they have gotten so close. No, how could he have let them get close? He didn't know them. He didn't know them...

I don't know them.

He felt something wrench inside him painfully, then release, tingles spreading throughout his body. A strange feeling, like something was slowly being lifted from his shoulders.

I don't know them, he repeated. I don't know them.

Why was this so hard, to remove strangers from his memory? Was he so weak, to hold onto such pathetic images? They were supposed to mean nothing to him, and yet, they were so hard to let go. But he wanted them gone, wasn't that enough?

I don't know them.

He was disgusted with himself for gripping onto the little fragments of happiness he had had. He hated that he had so much hope still left in him, that maybe, just maybe, he could live again. Be human. But he hadn't deserved it, had he? He hadn't deserved happiness, and to isolate him, he had his humanity taken away. He had only deserved pain, and sorrow. Anger and loathe. Blood lust and malice. Inhuman traits.

I don't know them. I don't, don't, DON'T know them.

He was a zombie now. He had no need for memories, memories that held no significance in an infinity of time. Such things were absolutely unnecessary. Little insignificant nothings. Weaknesses.

He was not weak. He would not let himself waver in strength; he needed it to fight back. Have no way to hold him back and pin him to the ground. Nothing to chain him from hating, loathing, this twisted, corrupted, disgusting world.

I don't know them.

A/N: This was originally in the first SiBS, but I can't remember if this chapter in particular was ever published. ... This is technically cheating to finish up the story, but this seemed to fit more at the end than any other part of the story (hence why I did not update it as soon as I found it... like two years ago). Just cleaned up typos, so this is pretty much written in the same style as most of SiBS. The end... until further notice, maybe. As for RotA, I have no idea what or when I will do something with that.