His exhaustion can’t be helped. He dies a little every time he turns back the clock, his body rotting by increments until - inevitably - he will be the disfigured creature he can’t avoid becoming.

“They were idiots,” Jonas states plainly, as though there’s no other way anyone else might have received them.

Since Rupert is getting closer, Jonas rolls onto his side, too, to face him. He frowns at the state of him, busted and bruised, probably even worse off than can be seen on the surface.

“And you’re the one who suffered for it. It isn’t fair.”