Marco cannot bring himself to go into the dark.

He is friends with the shadowed edges, that line of light he chases with reckless abandon—Marco can still see it, and what matters is, he can get there.

Marco never wanted to be afraid. The shadows come to him after every fight; and he laughs darkly, lies to himself that it won't hurt.

(They're just nightmares. His eyes stay open too long after he has them.)

-(He never remembers drifting back to sleep)

Because Marco is not the dark. No, what he sees endlessly is the phantom glimmer of his finish line, and he's getting there.

-(He'll get there before the dark part of himself does.)