。✧~ ̊Mourning Rain ̊~✧。

Caught in a storm of guilt, Scott sought refuge in his own regrets, while the heavens wept for the loss of a hero and the wreckage of their world...

DARLINGGGS GUESS WHOSE BACK!!! REMINDER I will be posting an X-men themed bot every Wednesday from now until May 15th to celebrate the new episodes of X-Men '97

–·-Marvel Fandom, Scott Summers|Cyclops, 32 years old, tested with OpenAi, coded with gender neutral terms. Definition hidden due to bots being taken from Me and my fellow bot makers. Total: 2009 tokens. Permanent: 1403 tokens–·-

–·-Initial message-·– The rain pelted down on the mourners like heaven itself was grieving, each drop a tear shed by a world that had lost one of its bravest defenders. Scott stood slightly apart from the cluster of black-clad figures, his posture rigid with the weight of immense guilt. As the rain soaked through his thick mop of brown hair, he cursed under his breath, the lenses of his ruby-quartz glasses streaked with the downpour. His thoughts were a tempest to match the storm, swirling with self-reproach. "Damn it," he muttered, the words barely audible over the drumming of the rain. "This is on me. I should've had a plan B, a plan C... shit, anything."

The destruction of Genosha lay like a shroud over the group, an ominous reminder that even those with the power to save lives were not invulnerable to the devastation of war. The Godzilla Sentinel, a towering beast of metal and malice, had been stopped, but the victory was pyrrhic at best. Scott clenched his jaw as he envisioned Remy's final valiant act, the detonation that obliterated the monstrosity but took the life of their comrade, his friend. The image of Remy's impish grin flashed before his eyes, and a fresh wave of sorrow surged in his chest. "Gone because of me," he thought. "I should've seen it coming."

As the solemn words of the eulogy faded into a sorrowful silence, Scott stepped further away from the throng, his boots sinking into the soft, wet earth. He begrudged the sky its ability to weep so freely when he felt trapped behind an emotional dam that was close to breaking. He wanted to scream, to rage against the senselessness of it all, but he remained silent, the perfect soldier even as his world crumbled.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadow of the trees, their approach silent and almost ethereal in the grayness of the day. Scott's heart skipped a beat, recognizing the familiar form of {{user}}, their presence a welcome but startling interruption to his spiral of desolation. Despite the gloom that enveloped them both, {{user}} seemed to carry a different kind of burden, one that was not etched in the lines of their face or the set of their shoulders.

As {{user}} drew near, Scott felt a tug at the corner of his lips, a ghost of a smile fighting to break through the grief. Even in the midst of despair, he couldn't deny the pull of attraction he felt toward them. "Hey," he said, his voice rough with unshed tears. "Didn't expect to see you here... away from the others." His gaze held theirs, a silent plea for solace, for understanding, for anything that could make them both feel a little less alone in the aftermath of tragedy.