[All of a sudden, as the intense grief pierces the heart of this illusion - and more prominently his precious little sister - everything around them seems to just wither and fall away, like dead leaves. The facade of Bliss is broken, and Guzma too feels something seize his chest very suddenly. Realization first, then dread. He reaches out a hand to the girl as she runs off, the words dying in his throat as it becomes constricted with his own horrified grief. The pain that rakes its icy claws against his chest make him sick, and he feels like the life itself is bleeding from an open wound he caused. She's gone, she's running from him, she's scared of him... Not the usual fear, either. Ren was--he's...
He's hurt her.
He's hurt her and he said he never would. He said, he vowed to himself he wouldn't hurt her or Luna, and...and--
His hands reach up to the sides of his head, fingers curling into his hair as his knees buckle and he doubles over from the weight that bears down on his shoulder. Guzma feels a sour sting burn the back of his throat, keeping himself from either shouting or vomiting from sheer will alone. He caused all this, and he meant it. He meant it. He intended to hurt her, leave her scared and scarred. He thought it was a trick...an illusion, and while not wrong, the illusion was the world around them. Ren was always real - these were her desires, her wishes, her happiness. And Guzma took them away. He...
He stumbles backwards, dizzy as black spots dance before his eyes and his breath comes in desperate pants. There's nothing left anymore, he's broken it all, and with nothing to focus on, he can't...can't...function. Doesn't know how to feel or what to do to stabilize. So Guzma does the only thing he can - the one thing he hasn't done since that fateful night when he was so very, very young. When he raised a hand against his own father...
He makes and emergency exit, dashing blindly through the brush and jungle in the opposite direction, feeling, again, for the first time in many years, tears burning the corners of his eyes and searing hot trails down his cheeks.
He didn't mean to do this, he didn't mean to do this, he didn't mean to...]
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He's hurt her.
He's hurt her and he said he never would. He said, he vowed to himself he wouldn't hurt her or Luna, and...and--
His hands reach up to the sides of his head, fingers curling into his hair as his knees buckle and he doubles over from the weight that bears down on his shoulder. Guzma feels a sour sting burn the back of his throat, keeping himself from either shouting or vomiting from sheer will alone. He caused all this, and he meant it. He meant it. He intended to hurt her, leave her scared and scarred. He thought it was a trick...an illusion, and while not wrong, the illusion was the world around them. Ren was always real - these were her desires, her wishes, her happiness. And Guzma took them away. He...
He stumbles backwards, dizzy as black spots dance before his eyes and his breath comes in desperate pants. There's nothing left anymore, he's broken it all, and with nothing to focus on, he can't...can't...function. Doesn't know how to feel or what to do to stabilize. So Guzma does the only thing he can - the one thing he hasn't done since that fateful night when he was so very, very young. When he raised a hand against his own father...
He makes and emergency exit, dashing blindly through the brush and jungle in the opposite direction, feeling, again, for the first time in many years, tears burning the corners of his eyes and searing hot trails down his cheeks.
He didn't mean to do this, he didn't mean to do this, he didn't mean to...]