"Ah, I think... the trigger for my death might be... 'the desire to survive', right?"
"..."
Fisher and Emhardt on his shoulder were simultaneously stunned, but Holan appeared exceptionally calm as he uttered this sentence, merely turning to gaze at the distant lava while allowing the scorching heat and brightness from the molten rock to cast warm hues on his originally corpse-like pale cheeks.
"This is really..."
Emhardt couldn't help but start to mock, and Holan picked up on his words,
"A twist of fate?"
"There's a bit of that sense, but how could this be possible?"
"Who knows?"
Holan fiddled with his fingers, having already figured out certain things in his mind and gradually opened up to Fisher,
