Death. Death awaits Aris. Of his past, of his name, of his individuality.
Life. Life awaits him, and Tom, two unintended consequences. Life as a new being, a new chimera, an amalgam of themselves.
Be their sunrise, be their sunset. Bright and early, energizing, joyful and incandescent. Somber, quiet, comforting, peaceful and serene.
Gold lines his veins, now, and the rapturous solace of serving another, a greater purpose, is forged into his axon and dendrite. He is whole. Or rather, he will be. He and his other half will be buried in the sand, and blessed by the Sun, the Bastard Sun. His hand will strike from the sands of time, born anew, Sudo, so named.

Brighter. Sunlight will be his water, and love will be his bread. Brighter, brighter still.

Amazing art is by the wonderful  lamanstin