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“Robin? Are you alright-”
Pain splits through Chrom as the shell of Robin strikes Elthunder into his body. With blurring vision, Chrom looks up to the person who used to be his tactician. “This isn’t… Your fault… Robin…”
Robin’s Elthunder deteriorates into Expiration. “Them?” Robin- now Grima- laughs emptily. “They don’t matter anymore.”
Chrom reaches for Grima, and in mocking compassion they meet his hands and kneel to hear his strained words. “Promise me… you’ll escape from this place…I…”
“Hm?” Grima asks, playing along with Chrom’s last words.
Chrom leans upwards to kiss Grima as some sort of twisted memorial to Robin. The fell dragon’s lips are cold- proof that Robin is a walking corpse.
Blood pools in Chrom’s mouth as Grima grips onto his back, Expiration working its way into his system. A pitiful death; one of the millions Grima plans to slay.
“Robin… I’m sorry…” His final words are barely audible.
“There’s no need to be.”