[It's Viktor's turn to just... well up with tears and spill over. His eyes are still shimmer shot and so it's all tinged purple, running down his face to take in those words. He shakes his head as if denying it, but affirms with his whole being,]

Yes... Yes, that is what it was like.

[Field of dreamless solitude. A poet, indeed. Viktor supposes the mage had nothing but time to think that one up. He speaks to how it had been as the Herald, just needing to tell someone about it. Have it be heard. He knows it doesn't excuse his actions, his violence and cruelty, but he cannot bare the burden of that experience alone. It is too much to go unspoken,]

Endless, vast numbness. Profound loneliness. So empty even I wasn't there.

[they both died for a moment there, hadn't they? Jayce's body failing him and Viktor's mind giving way. His arms curl protectively around Jayce, wishing to hold him so close they fuse together. He's more gentle than that, knowing it would hurt them both if he was too brutish.

In a more tender display of his desperate affections, he kisses Jayce's temple, his eyelid on the side of his still golden eye, his nose. Peppering him with no real direction. So different from when the Herald pushed his face to Jayce's, driven only by cold logic.

He just loves the man so much, he doesn't know what else to do with himself to show that. Viktor's done everything he could, hasn't he? He mutters, nuzzled to Jayce's cheekbone,]

I only want to exist where you are, Jayce. You've showed me that.