[There's nothing subtle about Edgeworth's power, at least not in this instance. It isn't a slow crescendo, but rather like a quick flip of a switch, and before Light can even register that something is wrong, it hits him.
The crash of emotion, of guilt, is so sudden and so disorienting that he feels like he's suffocating. Literally suffocating with a weight in his chest that causes him to freeze in place, spilled coffee on the table before him completely forgotten. And then he inhales -- sharply, deeply, like a man who had been underwater -- and no, he's not suffocating, he's still breathing but... god. God, that feeling is still there. A pang of panic causes him to lurch back in his seat, as if a mere few inches would help him escape whatever it is that's happening to him, but everything is overridden in favor of guilt.
And it's awful.
It's only been a few seconds and it's already too entrenched within him; any sorry attempt at rational thought, of staying calm, of trying to make sense of it, is both futile and laughably far away. And it isn't just the burdening, stifling weight of guilt that makes it unbearable... just as torturous and even more potent are the thoughts clawing in his head. How could I have- Why did I think that- What did I think I could accomplish by- What did I do?
Thoughts incomplete. A heavy punishment for an unknown crime.
It's enough to make him feel sick to his stomach, should Light even notice it through the unrelenting tide of self-condemnation.]
No - no, no, no -
[And then it's too much. Light stands to his feet, hunched over and hands clenching at his head. The already unbalanced table is knocked over in the process with a loud clatter.
no subject
The crash of emotion, of guilt, is so sudden and so disorienting that he feels like he's suffocating. Literally suffocating with a weight in his chest that causes him to freeze in place, spilled coffee on the table before him completely forgotten. And then he inhales -- sharply, deeply, like a man who had been underwater -- and no, he's not suffocating, he's still breathing but... god. God, that feeling is still there. A pang of panic causes him to lurch back in his seat, as if a mere few inches would help him escape whatever it is that's happening to him, but everything is overridden in favor of guilt.
And it's awful.
It's only been a few seconds and it's already too entrenched within him; any sorry attempt at rational thought, of staying calm, of trying to make sense of it, is both futile and laughably far away. And it isn't just the burdening, stifling weight of guilt that makes it unbearable... just as torturous and even more potent are the thoughts clawing in his head. How could I have- Why did I think that- What did I think I could accomplish by- What did I do?
Thoughts incomplete. A heavy punishment for an unknown crime.
It's enough to make him feel sick to his stomach, should Light even notice it through the unrelenting tide of self-condemnation.]
No - no, no, no -
[And then it's too much. Light stands to his feet, hunched over and hands clenching at his head. The already unbalanced table is knocked over in the process with a loud clatter.
And through grit teeth, he screams.]