Sol gripped the wrist of Sos, feeling the return of it with something like grief.
In another time, they would have been more than this.
In truth, what stood between them was more than had ever existed with the woman that had been at the center of their lives.
After the battle, though, there could be nothing left between them at all.
One would remain, and one would go.
Though both lived, and the woman besides, all else would be sundered.
What kind of existence was it that being alive brought no joy, at the cost of the missing friendships?