When It Comes Down To It

He understood well what kind of deeply-layered spiderweb it was to be caught in, though didn't know how to help one see through such deception. Finn looked around, finding that all around them were now rows of shelves forming a circle–a wall. 

'--Every path is blocked off. When did that–?' Finn questioned. 

The option of retreating was taken away as he turned his attention back to his friend, finding himself confronted by that burly build. Above his head, the skull-splitting axe was brought down with killing might. 

He flipped back just as the weight of it was felt, watching as the weapon crashed into the concrete floor with a thunderous impact. 

"Wake up, Damian! You can hear me, can't you?! Stop this!" Finn shouted desperately. 

The only answer he got was the bloodied warrior lifting his axe from the mess of concrete once again, raising it with crystal clear contempt. As he witnessed the brawny figure rush towards him once again, it became obvious to him that there may be no reasoning with his friend now. 

"It's me! See that already!" Finn urged. 

He sidestepped as the axe came down with a crescent arc that shined red, recognizing the use of a skill that would've split him in two right there. Instead of just words, he decided to attempt a more forceful method–

Finn countered with a spin, launching his foot straight against the chin of the bulky figure. It was a direct hit, striking true as it caused the man to wobble somewhat. However, Damian remained standing on both feet, shaking off the blow. 

'Shit…The resilience of a warrior isn't something I can handle unarmed. It's impossible to knock him out like this,' Finn realized. 

The failed strike led him open, hindered by his own thoughts as he found the warrior suddenly charging forward as a momentary blur of pure force. It was the shoulder of Damian that slammed straight into his sternum, forcing the air from his lungs as Finn found himself knocked back. 

Finn gasped as his back struck the edge of the shelf behind him, causing a garden hoe and a watering pot to fall down. 

It was a skill–["Bull Bash"]--Finn recognized it, though wasn't prepared for the feeling as he could tell his chest was already bruised. 

He picked himself up tiredly, watching his knees tremble as blood continued to leak from his countless wounds. As he looked towards the friend that had lost his senses, he watched as blood dripped all the same from him. 

He breathed heavily and unevenly, as did Damian; both seemed to fight just to properly stand. 

They were both likely approaching death on their own, though perhaps expedited by the unfortunate encounter. Finn could feel it in the pits of his sinking stomach what the only choice was, the only option:

'...It wants us to kill each other. That's the only way out of this,' he thought. 

Coming to that realization, knowing that only one life could survive this encounter, the young man felt his breaths coming a bit easier. As he looked down towards his own blooded hands as a mix of sweat and crimson fluid trickled from the tip of his nose, he felt a sense of relief. 

'Right. The choice is simple, isn't it? I don't have any purpose. I don't care about surviving. But you, Damian, you have a purpose. You want to help people–even in this hell, you're still trying to find the good in it,' Finn thought. 

As the decision came, he let his arms hang by his sides, breathing out as he looked towards the friend of his, who approached while dragging that oversized axe. 

["I could never live with myself if I became that kind of guy."] 

For some reason, at that moment, his mind wandered to another time, another moment— 

— 

Only two days after the beginning of the world-changing event, Finn sat on top of a building that overlooked the cityscape of Seattle. 

He let his legs dangle over the side as the wind passed by. Beside him, the warrior sat not so close to the edge. 

"The world's really gone to shit, hasn't it?" Finn remarked, looking at buildings in the distance that were worn by flames. 

"Yeah, I can't disagree there," Damian said, shrugging his shoulders. "Hey, Finn. Do you think…if it came to it, you could kill someone?" 

"Where did that come from?" Finn asked, glancing back. 

"It's just, with how the world is now, there's a good chance there might be some people who are hostile. Right?" Damian explained. "I still want to believe there's good out there, but I have to be realistic."

The question brought to him caused Finn to think about it for a moment, seeing the dreary sights of what the world was left to from such a high view. 

"If it's between my life or one I care about and a stranger, I'm going to choose the ones I care about," Finn answered honestly. "Even if it means taking a life." 

"I'm not surprised by that. I assumed that's the kind of guy you were," Damian said with a small smile. 

Finn looked over with a furrow of his eyebrows, "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked. 

"Ah, nothing–I mean, I think you have the right idea. For me personally though, it's just…" Damian said, seeming to consider his words as he scratched his cheek. "I'd never be able to kill somebody. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself. Probably wouldn't even recognize who I am anymore."

It wasn't a surprise to Finn to hear that the man would refuse to do such, though he was more shocked about how adamant he was about it. For Finn, it wasn't something he completely understood, though he felt that taking another life was something he did not like the idea of either. 

"Even if it means I have to die," Damian said. "I don't want to take a life. Call it stupid or selfish, but that's just how it is."

"It's not stupid. I think it's nice to have a conviction," Finn remarked before looking up at his friend, speaking from his heart. "If it comes to it, I'll do it for you. I'll kill so you don't have to."

The answer brought pause to the warrior briefly before Damian nodded his head, "Thanks. I could never live with myself if I became that kind of guy."