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It was the end, finally.
Aslan can somehow breathe the fullest breaths in this state: adrenaline pumping, fearful, bleeding. He felt whole.
The heightened sense. He could hear every swish of metal, each scoff Arthur emitted. He could feel everything all at once, see every color. There was something intrinsically beautiful about a knife fight.
Yet… this state caused him to hear it. “Ash!” A distinct call from a distinct voice. And then, the whole world around him becomes detached. In the first moment, there is a spark of joy Eiji had come. He wanted to support him, no matter what it would take. Even if it meant betraying him.
Why… Why must he see him like this? In this state?
It was not Arthur who reached around his back and stabbed him at the point of distraction, it was Eiji. It was his words. It was his love.
When Aslan falls, the world becomes drab again, the hope disappears. It was the end, finally. This was what he deserved. But the boy still calls out his name; he prays for him. “Don’t die, Ash! Don’t die!” He was naïve if anything. He was a backstabber if nothing.