March 1, 3190. y→x

“It’s strange, thinking how little time we have left. This is kind of like dying, isn’t it? I mean, half the outside’s likely dead too, and if I had to die, you’re the one I’d want to do it with, but, I know that this is way more than just dying. It’s just that, at the end of it, as long as we’re cutting the string of our footsteps, a full stop here, a new line who knows where, maybe, I guess it all feels the same, right?”