Of all the things he could've possibly pondered while staring at the bizarre bullshit currently threatening to destroy his perfectly good eyesight, Killian found himself remembering something oddly specific.
Back when he was younger, there'd always be those people who wished they were living inside a novel.
Not just any novel, either. They usually preferred to talk about completed ones. One with a predetermined happy ending where all the major problems eventually worked themselves out and everyone important somehow managed to survive.
"...?"
Such a random thought out of the blue, right? But for some reason it felt absolutely fitting for this very moment.
Back then, Killian naturally thought that had to be some nonsensical wishful thinking.
In shorter but less polite terms, complete bullshit.
