(Set somewhere after Tartaros and after "Distress Call" with Themi.)
Dark imagery within

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He thought the nightmares would be over when the mirror was smashed, but then, maybe there was only so much you could do to exorcise something that you had been so close to that it reached up and left bloody scratches in your skin. They were healing quickly, but they still left a mark, and he could still feel their desperate phantom tugs.

He could still see them, as much medical equipment and machine parts as they were creature.

Creature. He couldn't even call them people, though he knew every last one of them would have had his face.

They were there when he closed his eyes an dreamed, reaching for him, whispering frantically in words he couldn't quite catch, trying to pull him down, and if they did, he knew they'd make him like them.

"That's just it... isn't it?" A voice whispered in his ear, fiercely strong hands dragging him close and holding him in a vice like grip he couldn't escape from. In the corner of his eye, he could see olive green eyes, bright with hate, pale blond hair, and a hooked nose. His face, but also... not his face.

"We're already like them. It' cute that you think you're somehow better than me. You ARE me."

"I-I'm nothing like you!" He gasped, finding it difficult to breathe for the arm around his throat.

"No. You wish you weren't. There's a difference. You're still weak. You're a fracture point waiting to shatter and drive away everyone that cares about you."

"I. Won't!"

He thought of Titan, of Hvergelmer... Themiscara... but then he also thought of Iris. Of Zirconia, and felt doubt curl up in the pit of his stomach like a poisonous snake ready to strike.

"It's happened before. It'll happen again. You think just because you forgot what happened it all goes away? You remember you HAD a girlfriend once? What do you think happened? All that anger..." The Shadow of Falco rolled the word "Anger" like it was something delicious and decadent. "It served you so well, and you know it didn't come from the Negaverse. It's always served us well, because they always fail us. They look down and realize we're broken, that we will NEVER be as good as we could have been, and they PITY us.

"They...don't..." The arm around his throat was choking him, and darkness danced around the edges of his vision as the other-him laughed.

"Don't kid yourself. You're an angry broken coward, waiting for someone to finish you. You always will be. You couldn't even manage to kill me by becoming someone else. I'll always be you. We'll always be one step away from the dark...

He clawed frantically at the arm around his neck, but darkness crawled steadily into his vision, until even the laughter in his ears faded, and he woke up with a shudder.

"I'm not like you." He whispered into the dark. "Falco Marks is dead"