"I won't let it happen," because he couldn't. He couldn't when his friends were already breaking; tearing at the seams and shattering like porcelain. "You're not getting dragged into this. Either of you. The Ancients have spoken. My destiny is my own. Apparently, I am to release Death." He didn't know what was happening. Didn't understand the calm that seemed to have settled on all of them in that moment. There were no voices raised; they spoke no higher than whispers. They spoke with no inflection to their tones. Like they were hollowed out. Like they were exhausted. "Apparently Death loves me." 