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As he sits there he starts asking question after question either pondering it himself or to nobody. He looks across the ground as if a canvas painting the footsteps of the people who ran away when they had a chance. And just like that for once he noticed the back of his mind, what it was saying, no voice inside his head anymore. He was in denial, in bargaining, in anything he could ask for but this. For once he noticed how his lack of hunger was both a curse and a blessing, because he has no external motivation to leave, be in limbo here.
The dead head of Neova as if looking right at him falls and as the skull bashes the table it bashes some more falling down down down to the ground. Malfonz standing there, not sitting anymore ... right next to the skull puts his foot down, trying his hardest to squeeze and break that skull of his, just so he can say "yes I won, and he lost", but the skull shattered unsurprisingly fast. No satisfaction, no nothing, ... and as he fell down to his knees ... then to his stomach, as if a toddlers meltdown he started slamming the ground and waving his legs screaming why why why.
As he noticed and finally fell out of his delusions, his mind not clouded by thought anymore he got scared. He was scared of how lonely it was, the statues as if wrapping around the monuments like parasites, this land was of the faith of christianity, islamic and jewish belief, the cold stone, with eyes everywhere almost of weeping angels. He snapped out of it and sat back down. He closed his eyes and opened them again, wishing he would see what he did, the world back to its original state, and so he saw (sigh) him again. Was he real, was he part of his delusions, almost as an instinct, they both lunged. Fin.