This is my kingdom come

Alastor was too lost in his swirling maelstrom of rage and sorrow and hurt to really notice anything going on around him. He was vaguely aware of Manea's presence surrounding him, trying to comfort him and soothe the pain, but it was far too late for that. The fissures in his mind were breaking open, a rift that could never be fully closed—just held together as best they could. Right now, those fragile tethers keeping his sanity were fraying fast, almost broken completely. Alastor was clinging on to sensibility by a thread. One good push and he would come unwound at the seams. He wasn't aware of Manea moving or shifting, empty abyssal eyes staring blankly into space while violent and frenzied thoughts raged around inside his fractured brain like a hurricane. It wasn't until he felt the cool edge of the glass vial press up to his lips did Alastor realize he was being told to drink something. He blinked and furrowed his brow, gazing down at the liquid in the bottle before his face.

His lips curled back from sharp fangs in a silent growl, sneering at the medicine. When Manea demanded he drink it, Alastor snarled and slammed his paw down on the ground, shattering the bottle in his grasp into the rock. The flash of pain and sting of alcohol in the fresh cuts on his pads helped to reel his struggling mind back together just enough for Alastor to feel like he had any kind of control. In that brief moment of clarity, he took the bottle from Manea and downed the contents in one big gulp, gripping to the vial so hard it began to crack but didn't shatter just yet. Manea was swift to relieve him of the breaking glass, setting the vial aside so he couldn't cause any more damage or harm. Alastor tried to just breathe, but even breathing hurt right now. Thinking hurt his head, breathing hurt his chest, existing just hurt everything. The gentle rub of soft paw pads over his cheeks made him look up, meeting Manea's eyes while she wiped his furious tears away. He hadn't expected her to be so sympathetic to his pain. Manea was proving yet again why he had taken her as his mate.

His violet queen offered to go with him to see Relm and Irilyth. Alastor shook his head. "No. I have no desire to see either of them." He glanced away from Manea, ashamed for having to involve her in this catastrophe of a mess. "I would not ask you to come with me or mourn for pups you have no ties to. I doubt either of them will tell you anything anyways." He knew Relm would be tightlipped about the entire matter, pretending like it never happened. Irilyth might break, but given how she'd stood up to him, maybe she wouldn't. Maybe the golden bitch would remain silent in solidarity with Relm, if she knew anything at all. Relm would likely have disposed of the remains herself. That left Alastor alone in the dark and uncertainty. This was his kingdom come; his penance for the sins he'd committed. It was what he deserved.

In the wake of his rage, Alastor just looked exhausted and broken. The medicine was kicking in, and with his fury and adrenaline subdued, all that remained was emotional and mental fatigue. His eyes were glassy and heavy, his shoulders slumped. The sting in his paw made him glance down at it again, seeking the shards of glass sparkling where they had embedded in his paw pads. He lifted his paw and inspected it, turning it this way and that while rivulets of blood trickled down between his digits. Funny, it hurt more in the aftermath than it did in the moment. He suspected this loss would be much the same way.

"Alastor Mendacium"