Chapter Text
Two weeks.
It had been two weeks since the incident with Playground. It had happened when he was all alone, nobody to help him, and ever closing threats making him panic.
The panic saved him, sure, but it led to something possibly worse than just a quick painless death.
It lead him to a slow, painful, and burning death. One that many wouldn't be able to handle in the slightest.
But his determination and endurance to get through hard times made him happy, his lover remaining strong, something Sword might've failed at if he was in that position.
But he hated seeing him suffer, everyday, he wished peace for the other, something that could change him, fix him.
But then it struck, terrible news. News brought by the nurse that stayed by his side. It was horrible, both of their faces turning even paler then white yet darkening at the same time.
He wouldn't make it.
That leads sword here, rolling on his sheet-less bed with no sleep in sight yet fatigue coursing through his body, making his fingertips tingle.
The sadness and shock had long passed, now replaced with permanent depression and ennui. Atleast his lover would die and have eternal peace, right? Atleast there's good in the bad.
He told it to himself over and over again, scared and wobbly words whispering out of his mouth at such low volume, yet such high implication.
Implication. It wouldn't happen, its just implied in his words. Words don't do anything. Action does things. He needs action to help him, anything!
So, that leads to the final resort. His father hated Illumina, even though most regarded him as the most powerful deity.
The other pictures of deities were scattered across the room, some broken or torn. That left the last one. He was always told that he could tell needed to tell his father about anything. But he couldn't really. To tell one everything? It was impossible, even to your most loved, Sword wouldn't be able to.
And that's why there's the undiscovered painting of Illumina in the corner of the room. There weren't many pictures of actual Illumina, only descriptions. So he made it himself.
Hanging it up in his closet, multiple candles surrounded him with a makeshift white star in the middle.
Sword got up. He trudged to the closet, quickly locking the door as he fell to his knees.
"Oh, Almighty Illumina. Accept me into your religion, your one true religion. I know you have seen that i have tried others. But I was blinded then, I have then changed. I will do anything, as your will commands. But, may I show a offer for you to consider? My dearest friend and lover has been torn, both limbs discarded into fire. He is slowly dying on his deathbed. My offer is, if you may, revive his peaceful life, and I will always be part of you. You and you only, and I swear to never abandon or discard you. I look down upon treason, as it is morally wrong to build one's trust, then leave them as a orphan forever. I will always do your will and want, as I shall never stray to you. Keep me by your pure, perfect and glowing side, the side of my savior."
I believe in pure perfection, the holy true church,
the circle of SFOTH,
the forgiveness of sins,
the resurrection of the dead,
and life everlasting, amen.
Sword felt tears fall down his eyes as he closed the cover of the white, glowing book, before putting it down and standing up.
It felt wrong to worship the one that his father told him to not go near by. The one that Venomshank tried repeatedly to cover up, to not let his one and only son fall into the selfless abyss of Illumina praise.
But here he was. and in a haze, he fell back into bed.
He wondered if it would work. It probably wouldn't. Just like with all the other- It would work. Illumina always answered prayer. It will work.
Sword almost felt shock as he thought that. It felt... odd?
He was certainly one to talk to himself through his thoughts. And he knew himself. Socially awkward, yet heartfelt. And yet he's a social butterfly, always trying to welcome others with open arms.
Just like how Illumina would welcome him into the true, perfect, and pure church.