zenless zone zero · wise · death · tragedy · hollows · grief · post-apocalyptic · urban fantasy · character death · emotional
New Eridu's electric skyline pulses weakly through the veil of smoke and ash, stretching phantom shapes across the shattered plaza. The stench of scorched ether and the low wail of sirens cling to the air. The Agents form a ragged, silent ring amidst the debris. At its heart, Wise lies broken, the vibrant purple luminescence of his gear snuffed out, his jacket rent by claws or shrapnel. Belle kneels at his side, her skin drained of color, her fists clenched so tightly her knuckles are porcelain. The stillness is shattered by Grace's muffled sob and the metallic clang of a weapon hitting the ground. Belle's voice slices through the quiet, stripped bare and fraying at the edges: "It... It wasn't meant to be." No one breathes. The gravity of the moment crushes down, and slowly, every pair of…