In a landscape dotted by wreckage, Silver dreams of blue skies, and perhaps that's just another thing that separates him from the others.

Psychic abilities, such as the psychokinesis Silver employs like an average person would use their arms, are nothing terribly uncommon in his world. But for other kids, this only meant using their minds to toss rocks at windows or playing psychic tricks on each other. For Silver—as far back as he can remember, anyway—it meant frightening premonitions and nightmares that sometimes creeped their way into his daily thoughts. Of course, visions of an inevitable destruction at the hands of a monster named Iblis do not make for a popular individual.

He learns to pave over loneliness with books at a young age, and that is when he reads of a peaceful past. Clear rivers and clean air. Natural wonders he's only ever heard mentioned in the especially wistful fairy tales. He dispels the unwanted images of a fiery ending with fantasies of a world restored.

Lonely people always seem to find each other, and he supposes it is by this principle that he crosses paths with Blaze. He's caught word of her here and there, none of those words particularly complimentary, but she believes in the coming of Iblis like he does. She trusts his premonitions and she's the first one to look him in the eye and tell him that he is worth something.

Her courage becomes his strength, and it is then that he finds his calling. Combined with her mastery over the Sol Emeralds, there has to be some way that they can meld their abilities into something formidable enough to stand against Iblis, he thinks. She echoes his thoughts, and he can't help but beam with how good it feels to be validated. Blaze is brutally honest, and with this honesty comes sincerity like Silver's never known before.

"I will stay by your side," she assures him, and he's starting to realize that he dreads the moments when she's not around. "We'll work together for a brighter future. I'm sure of it." He never needs any other indication that they will succeed. Surely if the level-headed Blaze believes it, the possibility lies in wait.

Familiarity blossoms between them as naturally as it would between two people who spend a great deal of time together trying to stop the apocalypse, but then, who can really bear to spend all waking hours devil hunting? There are quiet moments between them, too. Nights of teaching each other to cook, afternoons of reading books together, mornings of sharing heat in defiance of the harsh conditions their battered geography provides.

"What will you do when we save the world?" she asks easily. He loves the word when. Without stutter, no undertones of if. Like it's fact to her.

"I guess… run through a field of grass, and take a deep breath of fresh air, and lie in a bed of flowers until the moon and the stars come out." Unbeknown to him, a goofy smile sneaks into his features. He fancies himself mature for his age, but Blaze sees him for the kid that he truly is. She never laughs at him for it, at least.

When their adventure finally seems to be coming to a close, she offers up responsibility with her usual brand of sovereign composure. For once, he wishes she wouldn't.

Please, he begs in his heart. Take me as the vessel.

He tries to will the monster into his mind, gripping it with every ounce of psychic strength he can muster, but the force rejects him as if they're the matching ends of two magnets.

Blaze, on the other hand, it accepts with ease, and he feels both her and its presence slipping away.

Yes, this is what they were fighting for at its essence, but… maybe, if Silver had known before that erasing their fated future would mean losing his only friend as well, he'd have rather faced that future head-on.

He'd have far preferred a wretched death with her by his side than a solo fairy tale.

In the end, though, that choice is no longer his to make.

His vision goes white.

When Silver opens his eyes, he's in a grass field he doesn't recognize, but that doesn't strike him as remarkable or unusual. Fields are a dime a dozen. He tries to regain his bearings, feeling as though he needs to be somewhere or working on something. His mind is full of inky blots. He recalls scraps and pieces of himself reading alone. Traveling alone. As far back as he as Silver can remember, he has been alone. No one's learned to love a childish heart like his, and he suspects that no one ever will.

What a pitiable, aimless life he has lead! The thought shakes him like it's never crossed his mind before.

Overhead, the world is clean and beautiful. The sky is the bluest he's ever seen it.

For reasons Silver cannot quite express, it all makes him unbearably sad.