
It’s raining. Of course it’s raining.
SHIVERS — The city exhales through the cracks in its bones. Slow, shuddering, full of ghosts. Revachol always weeps this way when it loses someone who listened to her.
INLAND EMPIRE — You can feel it. The weight of the air pressing you gently toward the ground. Not cruelly. Not urgently. Just… time, asking you to rest.
VOLITION — Stay awake.
INLAND EMPIRE — He’s done enough waking. Let him drift.
PERCEPTION (HEARING) — Footsteps, two sets. One frantic, one too steady to hide the panic. A voice breaks, raw and human: “Julien—? Hey, come on, stay with us.”
EMPATHY — Harry. He sounds young again. Like the first day you met him.
ESPRIT DE CORPS — And Kim. Quiet beside him, hands working, methodical, sure. He won’t stop, even when he knows. That’s his mercy.
INLAND EMPIRE — You want to tell them it’s alright. That the light isn’t cruel. That the rain feels warm.
You can’t.
COMPOSURE — Your lips twitch, enough for a smile. It’s something.
VOLITION — Speak. One more time.
- - “It’s okay.”
- - “Don’t look at me like that.”
- - “You’ll be fine.”
- - Say nothing.
INLAND EMPIRE — Silence is a kind of mercy too. They’ll hear what they need to in it.
SHIVERS — The city bends closer. Her streets hum like wires under rain. She remembers your footsteps — where they stopped, where they turned back, where they lingered too long.
INLAND EMPIRE — Revachol speaks softly now: You did enough.
ENDURANCE — Your body agrees. Every ache has become distant, a rumor of itself.
EMPATHY — Harry’s crying. Kim’s pretending not to. They’ll carry this differently, the way all men do. But they’ll carry it.
INLAND EMPIRE — And you. You're light now. Smoke in the rafters. The afterglow itself.
You close your eyes. The rain keeps falling, slower now. The music shifts, hollow strings, low brass, something almost like peace.
VOLITION — You stayed as long as you could.
INLAND EMPIRE — Long enough to matter.