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If you could do it all again, would you?
He looked up at the sun, squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as he could, cradling the corpse’s head against his chest like it was a newborn child.
“No.”
He didn’t offer more than that, for the time being. His skin glistened with sweat, the expression on his face looked tired, pained by the heat of the sun, but he made no move to get up. The sound of his heavy breathing could’ve been the loudest sound in the universe, then.
What would you do instead?
He didn’t move, he only let the words fall from his mouth.
“I wouldn’t have led that creeper over to him, for a start,” he sighed. “Maybe then we wouldn’t have been allies—then I wouldn’t have to kill him. At least, not like this.”
He fell silent for a moment more.
“Or—maybe we would’ve still been allies, just...in a different way? I wouldn’t owe him my first life. I would’ve had more freedom, I think. But I think I still would’ve gone with him, to the desert. I think we still would’ve ended up here. I just would’ve trusted him more.”
Would you still win?
“...If I did it all again knowing what was coming? No. I would’ve tried to die somewhere else, along the way. I wouldn’t let this happen again.”
Would you make him kill you?
He considered it, opening his eyes for the first time, letting the sun blind him.
“He would hate that, I think.”
He didn’t offer another word.
Would it have been better to have never met him at all?
“...Maybe,” he shrugged, looking down at the body in his arms. He ran a hand along his face, tracing the scars from ages past, the scars from hours ago. “Maybe I should’ve left him alone. Maybe then he would’ve survived, would’ve won.”
Alone?
He shrugged.
“Maybe.”
-
If you could do it all again, would you?
He laughed. A manic, chaotic, unhinged thing. He laughed for so long it seemed his lungs would give out on him, like he would fall down in the grass, sunflowers cradling his corpse. Wiping a false tear from his eye, he sobered up.
“No,” he spat, glaring at the ground. “No, never, in a million years. I never wanted this! You should know that by now, right?”
To win?
“Yes!” he yelled, throwing his arms in the air and gesturing around angrily, looking around for the source of the voice, whipping his head about with a wild look in his eye. “I never wanted to win! I just wanted to have fun with my friends!”
He steadied himself enough to stand still, staring down at his bloodied hands.
“I just wanted to have friends, y’know?” He glared pointedly at the statue. “It’s your fault I don’t.”
You didn’t have to do the tasks.
“Well I wasn’t told that,” he grumbled. “It’s the whole point of the game! You get a piece of paper that tells you what to do, and you do it! If I could’ve just thrown it away, clearly I should’ve!”
You played the game well.
“I wish I didn’t,” he bit the inside of his cheek. He must have drawn blood, because he made a sour face, swallowing harshly. His voice grew raspy as he continued, “I would gladly lose again if I just had someone—anyone! Just...”
He took a labored breath, sinking to the floor and wrapping himself in his shawl.
“I didn’t want to be alone.”
So, you’d rather lose than be alone?
“Yes,” he said without a moment’s hesitation. “Do you even need to ask that?”
It’s just amusing.
He thought this might happen.