Death being offered so easily felt like cheating, naturally. Perhaps that was why he had never taken Gabriel up on his offer before (since when did you care so much about cheating? Or pride?). Deep down of course, he was still terrified of it -- it was hard not to be. Part of him was still afraid that the truth was only that life went on in death and that it was no real escape. Part of him was still afraid of meeting in death everyone he had ever disappointed or hurt. He did not want to face his mother. He did not want to face Ceres. He did not want to face any of his once-friends that surely were dead by now. He only wanted a black solitude and an infinite emptiness. Just as he didn't trust in himself and he didn't believe in the world anymore, he didn't quite believe in death. Nothing was ever that simple. Of course, that was probably just another excuse and drawn-out self-justification for his own cowardice. Maybe it really was that simple.
The chance was still there, that death was everything that it was supposed to be: an end, a finality, a conclusion. The back cover of an awful story that had gone on for too long. There was that chance. He wanted to believe in that. He wanted to believe in Ahren, too.
What was your wish?
he asked. His mind felt heavy and empty at the same time. He felt like there was too much he knew about the other and not enough simultaneously. They had never sat down and shared their life stories; they had never conversed like friends should have conversed. They had only ever talked about the apocalypse and things that were better off not talked about. Thinking back, it seemed like that was all he had ever talked about, with anyone. Stupid things.