[By the time Nero's made it out of his own fucked up fungi womb, he's covered in bits of its flesh, along with the soup made of the human he'd woken up next to, blood from the human he's pretty sure he left dying in the woods, his own blood, his hands torn up from ripping the whole thing apart.
He looks like a fucking mess. And he feels like total shit. He's got bruises, for fuck's sake. That aren't going away. And when he reaches for his other side?
Nothing. Nothing but this roar, this snarl, reaching for power. And finding nothing but empty air.
It makes him feel like a bird beating its body against the confines of its cage. Like he'll break every bone in his body if it means he gets out of here. Nero crawls out of the torn remains of his cell, finds another, and claws it open. His tail lashes, tangling and cutting through vines, and he gives his own snarl as all that comes out is the remains of what used to be human. Once. Maybe a long time ago. Spilling over his boots.
He can try to comfort himself by thinking the others got away, but he knows they didn't. There's no fucking way. If they could take down Nero, then what hope did they have?
Nero hears his name and every muscle in his body curls up like he's going to spring, only a split-second where his fingers are claws. His face drops, his expression human more than demonic rage.] Fuck. Geralt. They got you too?
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He looks like a fucking mess. And he feels like total shit. He's got bruises, for fuck's sake. That aren't going away. And when he reaches for his other side?
Nothing. Nothing but this roar, this snarl, reaching for power. And finding nothing but empty air.
It makes him feel like a bird beating its body against the confines of its cage. Like he'll break every bone in his body if it means he gets out of here. Nero crawls out of the torn remains of his cell, finds another, and claws it open. His tail lashes, tangling and cutting through vines, and he gives his own snarl as all that comes out is the remains of what used to be human. Once. Maybe a long time ago. Spilling over his boots.
He can try to comfort himself by thinking the others got away, but he knows they didn't. There's no fucking way. If they could take down Nero, then what hope did they have?
Nero hears his name and every muscle in his body curls up like he's going to spring, only a split-second where his fingers are claws. His face drops, his expression human more than demonic rage.] Fuck. Geralt. They got you too?