Chapter Text
It’s dark. Artemis cannot see, but he knows by the heaviness of the air that wherever he is is a dark place.
It’s…compact. The scent of wet, deep dirt fills Heart’s nose, and his hands brush soil as he slowly tries to feel around his surroundings. He can hear a light scattering of the dirt fall to the ground.
Soil.
He tries to feel, to measure out roughly how big the space he’s in is. But he…
He can’t move.
And the reality of where he is slowly sets in, sending a sharp, cold shock of fear through his body.
He’s back in the hole. Back in Apathy.
No.
He panics, desperately feeling for a way out.
Nothing.
No no no.
He can’t be back here. They’d harmonized. He’d changed.
And yet.
The dirt is cold. It’s not wet, exactly—more of that uncomfortable kind of damp that smells of mildew and seeps into your very being.
His wings are being crushed, too wide for the tiny space.
It’s strange. He doesn’t recall Apathy being so claustrophobic.
His chest feels tight, like something is pressing on it. Confused, he feels around again.
And he realizes the space is shrinking.
The dirt is beginning to constrict, crushing him slowly like a strangler vine. He’s struggling to breathe.
He can hear his ribs splintering, each one adding to the unbearable pain in his chest. The pressure of the dirt does not relent, crushing the broken bones even more.
He can’t take it. He opens his mouth to scream, but dirt fills his throat before he can make a sound. He chokes on soil as it pours into his lungs, filling his mouth and nose. His chest burns, though he isn’t sure if it’s due to his broken ribs or oxygen deprivation. Maybe both.
Before he can figure it out, the Heart stops.
—
It’s dark. Artemis cannot see, but he knows by the heaviness of the air that wherever he is is a dark place.