1 | bioshock infinite, mine? preposterous.
2 | thank you for reading.

this is how it (really) ends—

"And what name shall you take, my son?"

And from all around you are the strings of
accusations you've somehow known and
realized but have never come to terms with.

Zachary Comstock.
Booker DeWitt.
Comstock.
Booker.

It's all one and the same to you now.

"No, I'm... both."

You don't resist when her cold hands push
you to your watery grave. You let her. Death
is the least you deserve for all the things
you've done to her. You're not afraid.

But you don't deny that you're sorry.

Sorry that this is the last time you'll see her.
Sorry that the only thing you've ever done
for her is damage her. Sorry that the last
thing you see in those sky eyes is pain.

Sorry that she'll never see Paris.

One by one by one, she slips away just as
you do. You don't think you'll see her in
heaven. There is no heaven for a sinner like
you.

But she forgives you.

Just as the last of her fades, just as the light
in your eyes dim, she smiles, and the weight
is gone. The red in your hands disappears.

She forgives you.