[ The last time that Sisyphus had seen anything with his eyes had been during that fight against Aiacos, a battle of ideals. He still remembers the look of that man's face with a startling clarity, and the first thought he has is to wonder what he must be doing, now-- being one of the few survivors of the war, and a Spectre, no less.
The second thought is to process the fact that he can see, and that he's alive. There's a heart beating in his chest. These are all things that should be impossible.
The third, only slightly less alarming thought he has, is that he can't reach his cosmos. He might be able to see, but now there's another entire sense that he can't access, and the world seems emptier, less colorful. He feels vulnerable. He knows that this isn't what death is like. He knows enough about the Underworld.
He doesn't rest on any one of these thoughts, however, until he's cycled through to the most important one-- Sasha. The name still feels like it's caught in his throat. He remembers thinking, don't cry. Is the war over? The sky is clear. There are only clouds above.
A muffled sob catches his attention, from not that far away. It takes him a moment, because his body is stiff and doesn't want to move correctly, but he goes. And she's there, curled up on the grass, and the relief is so strong that he thinks he might collapse again, right there. He steadies himself against a tree, instead. ]
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The second thought is to process the fact that he can see, and that he's alive. There's a heart beating in his chest. These are all things that should be impossible.
The third, only slightly less alarming thought he has, is that he can't reach his cosmos. He might be able to see, but now there's another entire sense that he can't access, and the world seems emptier, less colorful. He feels vulnerable. He knows that this isn't what death is like. He knows enough about the Underworld.
He doesn't rest on any one of these thoughts, however, until he's cycled through to the most important one-- Sasha. The name still feels like it's caught in his throat. He remembers thinking, don't cry. Is the war over? The sky is clear. There are only clouds above.
A muffled sob catches his attention, from not that far away. It takes him a moment, because his body is stiff and doesn't want to move correctly, but he goes. And she's there, curled up on the grass, and the relief is so strong that he thinks he might collapse again, right there. He steadies himself against a tree, instead. ]
... Lady Athena. Are you alright?