Simon stood rooted to the spot, staring blankly at the monster before him.
She really was a monster. His judgment had been right from the start.
He had wavered before. Or rather, he had been wavering every moment.
Through all those days and nights, whenever he pushed Maeve away with a cold expression and saw her look of disbelief and despair, his heart hurt more than hers. Again and again, he gritted his teeth and checked as he struggled, his reason on the verge of collapse, yet he refused to let go.
If he kept going and found a way, perhaps he could save his sister. If he gave in now, Maeve would never come back.
But looking at the monster before him, her eyes closed as she awaited death, he felt something inside him snap.
"No, no, this isn't right! Maeve... you killed Maeve... no, you, you are Maeve!"
"I'm a monster."
Simon's voice trembled, like a drowning man trying to grasp one last straw. "I don't care! You're Maeve!" "Simon!" she roared suddenly, her scarlet eyes widening to reveal a mouthful of fangs.
The hideous monster's terrifying presence made Simon instinctively stumble back several steps and fall to the ground.
She reached toward Simon where he had fallen, then saw her own blood-covered claws and withdrew her hand. "No... a dangerous monster can't be by Older Brother's side."
Simon might not care, but she did.
Simon sat blankly on the ground. His arm had struck a stone, and blood seeped out.
He looked down at the blood, his eyes gradually dimming.
He was a fragile human, while Maeve was a hideous monster.
"I'm a monster," she repeated, her voice gradually growing firm. "Maeve is already dead."
"Maeve is already dead."
Elliot quietly read the dialogue that appeared on