Chapter Text
The burning pain in his chest numbed his whole body, but yet, at the same time he felt a twisting pain whenever he tried to take a breath.
The heavy scent of blood lingered in the room, usually the scent excited him, but Alastor found it less exciting when it was his own blood, pooling at the floor where he laid on his side, a weak and trembling hand over his bleeding chest.
His trustworthy shadow, the only companion he ever had, danced worried around him. Could he have spoken, Alastor would tell him to stop, there was no need to be worried.
But he couldn't.
The floor of his collapsed radio tower was cold and the only light in the destroyed room came from a few red lights of his radio station.
It hurt. Alastor can't remember the last time he felt pain. Was it when he was still alive? When his father- No, he wouldn't allow himself to spend his last thoughts on that man. Oh... Right. He was dying, wasn't he?
Great Alastor Altruist, dying for his friends. How embarrassing.
No. It couldn't end that way. He still had a plan!
A weak sound escaped him, could a sound so pathetic come from him?
The angelic energy burned at his flesh while it was weaken him, he wasn't even able to teleport into his radio station, just in the near of it. He had walked, slowly and carefully the rest of the way here.
He couldn't die here. He wouldn't... He... He was tired. Breathing hurt, he could feel himself getting weak as dark spots clouded his already swommen vision.
A rest, that should do. And after that he will march with a big grin to Charlotte and the others. Yes, dear Charlie must be devastated that he isn't there.
He needed to get back, he... he couldn't move. Before he could grab onto another thought his eyes fell close with a ragged breath.