Wading through the shadows is like walking through slowly-hardening cement, and Wrath continues to dangle listlessly, not even twitching at the tiny black hands reaching from all around to clutch at his limbs and clothing.

They're reaching for Envy, too. He can probably feel their cold little fingers.

DON'T YOU KNOW, ENVY?

YOU BELONG IN HERE, TOO!

YOU'VE BEEN LIVING ON BORROWED TIME, AND ALL THINGS LIKE YOU COME HOME EVENTUALLY.