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“I never disliked you,” Mammon says, his back to the shoreline, feet planted precariously on the edge. Reborn lands in the shadow of the illusion’s hat, knowing his gun is useless. He can see the setting sun, can smell the salty spray of waves breaking on jagged rocks
The claws of the eagle scratch in to his back before letting go, a bit rough and lost, searching for the heavy fatigues of its dead master. It circles above them, refusing to land, before disappearing below. Reborn knows it’ll be back; they always come back.
Mammon turns and Reborn doubts for a second that it’s an illusion, and it’s already too late; Mammon was always too good with deceiving.
“I never disliked you,” Mammon says again in that child’s voice. “You never owed me any money.”
“You’re not making sense. Cut to the chase.”
“I never disliked you,” Mammon repeats as though saying a curse – third time’s the charm – before, clearly: “I just hated what you were.”
“You hated yourself, Viper,” Reborn frowns.
“Be quiet! Don’t use that name!” There is a sudden gust of wind, and then Reborn feels as though he is being stoned to death –
“Illusion.” Reborn brushes off his suit. “Don’t strain yourself.”
Mammon is bitter. “The Negative Seven Rays: yet another curse of the Arcobaleno.”
Reborn has nothing to say. His own pacifier is wrapped in chains, chains he had mocked less than a decade ago, chains that kept him down but kept him safe.
“I never disliked you,” Mammon says inconsistently, falteringly. The illusion flickers. Reborn glimpses a shade of purple to the left and turns to see half a foot already over open air. “I never – ”
It’s so easy to say that and take the last step off the precipice.
“I should make you pay for every word that comes out of your mouth,” Reborn mimics Mammon’s tone.
“Be quiet. Be quiet.” Babies don’t cry.
“Get over yourself. There is nothing to fear. You’re still alive. We have the chain – ”
“The chain restricts our power! Here, we are truly nothing but babies waiting for the Millefiore to take it from us! Reborn! You know this and yet you’re still standing as though nothing has happened!” You were always so strong; it made you too confident.
But he is not. Mammon voices Reborn’s own doubts; takes them only a little further than Reborn would have himself.
Reborn walks a few steps closer. He pulls Mammon’s hat off, tosses it to the waves below. It falls without a sound. “You shut up. We’re all the same. You – me – we’re here, we’re alive. We’re the ones who are winning. Now come back to the base.”
Mammon looks uncertain. Reborn feels the same; he turns his head to the side. Mammon’s eyes are always too expressive.
Mammon brushes his shoulder to Reborn’s side and takes a step towards safety.
From the back, they look like lost children.