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The moment bright, violent red blooms across Till's skin is the moment Ivan's world comes to an abrupt stop.
Till is looking at him in shock, his hand pressed over the spreading stain on his arm. A warning shot. He isn't allowed to simply stop singing, not when his only value comes from his music.
Acting without thought, Ivan throws his microphone aside and rushes across the stage. If he violently rebels, the snipers’ guns will ignore Till's quiet surrender and turn on him instead. He doesn't know what he'll do, but watching Till die isn't an option. Till's death would be his undoing.
The fire is gone from Till's eyes; he's already half-dead. But if Ivan's life can throw fuel on the fading embers, Till will get back up again, as he's always done. He wouldn't let Ivan's death stop him from surviving. Nothing ever stops him for long.
As Ivan approaches, Till's eyes blaze back to life. But instead of singing, he shoves Ivan away from him.
The same guard who shot Till takes aim again from behind him, perched above the stage, and Ivan throws himself forward in pure desperation. Till scrambles back, and the bullet grazes his shoulder before burying itself in Ivan's chest.
It's not a killing shot, the bullet strikes several inches away from his heart. Ivan feels the impact, but the pain never follows. There's no exit wound, he shouldn't bleed out.
Till's expression fills with primal fear as Ivan's pristine white suit gains a blazing shock of crimson. Why? Ivan is trying to save him, shouldn't he be relieved? Till won't die today.
Till's mouth opens, but nothing comes out. The only sound is the patter of raindrops and blood on the stage, the rest of the world fading away.
Why won’t he sing? Till always keeps singing, no matter how broken he is. He barely has to try this time, Ivan will let him win. This will be even easier than Till’s victory over Acorn.
Till burns brightest when he rebels, whether against the segyein or Ivan. He looks most alive when bloody and bruised, yet still continuing to fight back. This can be just another childhood fight, the first one Till can win since Ivan grew taller.
He grabs Till by the shirt and harshly yanks him close, expecting Till to push him away and try to sing. Instead, Till's arms remain limp at his side, his bullet wound still bleeding and darkening his sleeve.
Gritting his teeth, Till stares straight at him, waiting for a blow. Till always strikes first, but now he's waiting for Ivan to hit him. This isn't how their fights go.
The crowd before them is growing bored, and both their scores are rapidly dropping. If this was an earlier round, perhaps the segyein would kill them both for failing to follow orders, but one of them needs to survive so Luka will have an opponent.
Ivan is considered the more valuable and obedient pet, but Till is more popular and talented. It must not be easy to decide who to kill with both refusing to sing.
If Ivan is the aggressor, seen as the bigger pet unfairly pummeling a smaller one, Till should gain enough sympathy to survive, and he'll hate Ivan for attacking him. Till won't mourn his death.
But Till is faster to act. He glances up at their falling scores, then punches Ivan hard in the mouth. His score plummets below Ivan's in response.
Ivan is too focused for Till's punch to hurt much. He delivers one of his own, holding back from using his full strength. If he knocks Till out, he can't be sure how the segyein will react. They might count it as Ivan's win.
Ivan smiled during their childhood fights, but how can he smile when Till's life is in danger? Till has to win, living without Till scares him far more than death.
Till is at a clear size disadvantage, and the bleeding wounds on his arm and shoulder stop him from effectively fighting back. But he still rains desperate blows down on Ivan no matter how many times Ivan hits him back.
Is Till crying? Ivan can't tell if it's rain or tears spilling down his cheeks. But Till looks agonized enough to be crying. All he's ever done is hurt Till, and his final moments will be no different.
But maybe it's better this way. Till will be happy that Ivan is dead, and go on to win Alien Stage. Ivan will never be able to hurt him again.
A shot rings out, cutting through the rain. Ivan has a second to hope his death will be quick, and then Till collapses into his arms like a puppet with cut strings.
He doesn't understand. Ivan was supposed to lose, so why is Till's neck bleeding? Till can't die, it's not possible. What does Ivan have to live for if he's gone?
Ivan shoves his shaking fingers against the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. But warm blood keeps gushing over his hands, cold and numb from the rain.
Till is still conscious, but his life is fading far too fast. The spark in his eyes is dimming as he looks up at Ivan, weakly gasping his sleeve. He looks peaceful, a sick contrast with Ivan's devastation.
Ivan nearly collapses to the ground, unable to remain standing, but very carefully lowers Till to rest in his lap. “Don't leave. Till, please.” His voice shakes, overflowing with grief. He's never begged for anything like this before.
“I shouldn't…have let go…” Till rasps through bloody lips, teal eyes fixed on Ivan's face.
Ivan almost wishes that he doesn't understand what Till is referring to. Why is he speaking about the past now? They've never done that. They always live in the present. The night of the meteor shower remained unspoken until now, too painful for either of them to prod at the gaping wound it left behind.
If Till hadn't let go, he might not be dying now. Maybe they would have been caught and returned to the garden, but what if they had reached the rebellion? Their time together wouldn't have to end, he could have remained at Till's side forever. They could be happy. Till could sing only for his own enjoyment.
Grasping Till's hand, Ivan squeezes it tight. “Don't let go now.”
Tears blur his vision when Till weakly squeezes back with clumsy fingers. He’s always craved all of Till's attention on him, but not like this. He'd happily suffer through never seeing Till again if that was the price to pay to keep him alive.
There's so much Ivan could say that he wouldn't know where to start, but he can't burden Till with his twisted emotions and ruin his final moments. All he can do is try to make Till's passing peaceful. Till must not want Ivan to be holding him, but at least he won't be alone.
“Sing,” Till croaks.
Ivan's already won, and he can't imagine singing ever again. His last song should be a duet with Till, the end of their tragic story. But how can he refuse Till's final wish?
Till never heard the song Ivan sang during his first round, dragged off and sedated after his own win, yet Ivan sang it for him. Till deserves to hear it.
When he starts to sing in a shaky voice, he wonders if Till understands that he's the inspiration. He's Ivan's endless sorrow, but also his shining light. But he won't stop to explain.
Gentle, comforting touches aren't something Ivan naturally knows how to give, but he tries. He only learned through watching Till, who isn't broken the way Ivan is. He has a heart.
His fingers softly run through Till's damp hair and stroke his cold cheek as his tear-soaked voice cracks on a higher note, unable to perform with his usual control. How can he sing when Till's blood is spreading across his suit, the pure white marred by the spill of Till's precious, fading life? He killed Till, this is his fault. But Ivan takes a deep breath and continues.
Till is trying to stay awake, to remain as long as possible, but it's a losing battle. His grip is growing weaker, and the human guards are already standing at the edge of the stage, ready to lead Ivan away. This is just another death to the segyein, none of them care that the only good thing in this ugly, awful world is dying.
He's only made it halfway through his song when Till gives his hand one last weak squeeze. His eyes, still fixed on Ivan, drift shut. Ivan doubts Till can hear his voice anymore, and stops singing. He'll witness Till's last moments in silence.
The fingers tenderly caressing Till's cheek drift down to press into his chest, over his heart. Ivan can just barely feel the weak, fading pulses below the skin. Why can't he give his own heart to Till? He would rip it from his chest in an instant if it would keep Till alive for even a few more moments.
The moment Till's heart stops beating and stills forever is the moment that Ivan's own breaks into sharp, jagged pieces. It's pure agony, a pain worse than death. He wishes he was dead too.
If only Ivan wasn't so rational. If only he could believe that Till's eyes will open. If only he could pray for a miracle. But Till is dead, his body cradled in Ivan's arms. He'll never sing again. Never call Ivan an asshole. Never write another perfect song. Never draw another work of art. Never laugh or cry or show any other emotion.
Before he met Till, Ivan was merely drifting along, continuing to exist through inertia. If he had simply stopped breathing, he wouldn't be overly bothered in his last moments. He hadn't realized what he was missing, that life could be enjoyable.
But he doesn't know how to live without Till. He was so full of life just a few moments ago, life that Till gave him, but now Ivan feels as if he's dying too. Is it possible for this heartrending pain to kill him?
Uncaring of the segyein watching, he buries his face in Till's chest and releases an anguished cry. Why wasn't he the one to die? Till could have won Alien Stage, and lived a happy life without Ivan. He's sure Till wouldn't even miss him.
Ivan only raises his head when he hears footsteps. Their duet is over, and it's time for him to leave the stage. It's time to abandon Till’s body as if it’s worthless trash to be cleared away.
When a guard takes his arm, still cradling Till close, Ivan lashes out. His other arm shoves the man back, refusing to let them take him away. He'll never see Till again once he leaves the stage. Till's body is a lifeless shell, but it's all Ivan has left.
He's supposed to go quietly, but Ivan wants to die. If the guards won't kill him now, he'll refuse to compete against Luka and be shot on stage in a few hours.
If he dies, he can be with Till again, and his pain will stop. If he's lucky, they'll be cremated together, their ashes mixed and spread over Anakt Garden. It's the most Ivan can hope for.
After a second of shock that the perfect pet is rebelling, one of the masked figures grabs each of his arms, trying to haul Ivan away.
As much as he hates letting go of Till, Ivan has to put him down to fight back. He struggles to free his arms, kicking at another guard who tries to grab his legs.
But none of them take out their guns, crushing Ivan's hope of a quick death. Unsha needs his prized pet alive to win Alien Stage. He must be celebrating Till's death now, Urak will go bankrupt without Till and leave Unsha the winner of their rivalry.
Ivan manages to shrug off one of the guards holding him, and uses his free hand to yank the other one off, aided by the rain and blood making it hard to get a good grip on his sodden clothes.
Being proper and obedient is part of his carefully curated image. But for Till, he'll tear it to shreds. Ivan will continue his rebellion until the segyein have no choice but to dispose of him.
Till's body is cold and broken, but Ivan tries to return to it when he breaks free, to shield Till from the world that cruelly took his life. He wants to die next to Till, if he can. Could he grab a gun from one of the guards and shoot himself?
Ivan reaches Till's side, but is once more grabbed by the arm. He feels as if he's channeling Till when he releases an angry yell and throws a punch; if he wasn't so devastated it might be exhilarating to finally strike back.
More guards swarm onto the stage to contain him, and Ivan can't possibly fight them all off. In desperation, he makes a break for the edge of the stage. It's high up enough there's a good chance he'll die if he throws himself off. If not, he'll be so injured that it likely won't be worth the cost to fix his shattered body, and Unsha will sell him for parts. He'll be dead either way.
Ivan moves fast, but the guards are faster. This isn't the first time a contestant has tried to kill themselves, even if Ivan is the last pet expected to make an attempt.
Seized a few feet away from the open sky, dark and heavy with clouds, Ivan almost gives up. But Till never stopped fighting back, no matter how futile. Ivan has to do the same.
His pointless struggle continues as he tries to free himself. The segyein will never understand that this is an expression of grief, but for once, Ivan doesn't care what they think.
He never understood Till's own rebellion, and now he never will. Why did he fight back at every opportunity? Till's musical genius could have made him a prized pet, but he was too volatile. His life would have been so much easier if he had behaved like a proper pet.
Yet Ivan had fallen for Till because of his pointless resistance. He had never wanted Till to be the same as the other children in Anakt Garden, Ivan had kept his distance from them. But Till was different.
If only Till's refusal to accept a life of control by the segyein had saved him. Would Till be amused if he could see Ivan carrying on his resistance, or would it be yet another way Ivan upset him?
He should have apologized before Till died. Ivan has hurt him so much, Till must have spent his final moments hating Ivan for a lifetime worth of pain.
Slowly, Ivan is pulled away from Till's body. Away from the only thing in the world that matters. He reaches out, futilely trying to close the distance between them. If he can only touch Till one last time and—
Before Ivan can make another attempt to break free, one of the guards jabs a needle filled with clear liquid into his arm. Everything grows blurry as the sedative floods his veins, and the last thing Ivan sees before his vision darkens is Till's body disappearing into the distance as he's limply dragged away.