that which we are, we are (made weak by time and fate).

Publicado: 12/11/2026 · Atualizado: 12/11/2026

Sinopse

Napoleon keeps talking, and Illya knows he should be looking at the painting, but he can’t tear his eyes away from him. Napoleon’s face has lit up, his eyes bright, and Illya can’t help but remember that day in Vienna, where he had looked at Napoleon and thought: Oh. I suppose this is it, then. Illya can remember dying in the street, ash and blood and Napoleon's name on his lips. But he doesn't die. Instead, he wakes up with Napoleon sitting next to his bed, holding his hand. It hasn't ended yet in the way they are both so afraid of, but that doesn't mean that living is easy. They are spies, and the game is never kind to them. Illya blinks, and focuses on Napoleon. He doesn’t listen to what he is saying. He’s trying to memorise the lines of Napoleon’s face. There are a thousand unspoken words between them, begging to be heard before they become just another regret on top of the many they've already accumulated over the years, but the game never stops, not even for love.

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