[ Teeth grind against each other as he feels the blade twist, but perhaps as some final attempt to stand his ground, Zain does not cry out. He breathes heavily as he brings the hand back to him, using the last of his wavering strength to rip the fabric of his sleeve around his bleeding hand.

I want to live. I want to live. That much was true. So he pushes the life of a prisoner from his mind, doesn't allow it to intimidate him and satisfy Ardyn. Once he manages a knot, he lifts his head back towards him, voice low and hoarse. ]

Everyone... Everyone believes that they are the hero of their own tale. [ He's drifting — favoring one side, gaze becoming unfocused. ] Perhaps that's how you became this... creature. But I just ask... you try to spare him, as you have me. He knows not of what he will wrought. Maybe if he can find redemption, you too...

[ He doesn't complete that thought. Zain collapses on his side, parallel to the skull that brought him here. ]