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The last of N-Ma's dust faded away; dead, gone from all worlds, killed by the very thing he sought to consume, and all because they simply had more of it than his evil guts could handle.
"It's over," he whispered, "we...really did, it, everyone..." The adrenaline slowly wore off and his knees nearly met the ground before he felt two pairs of arms holding him steady; on both sides, each of his parents smiled at him. "Mom, Dad..."
"It's okay," his father said softly, "you've done well being strong for your brothers and sisters, but we're here now, and it's okay to be weak." And Makito fell into their embrace, tears of relief and joy streaming down his cheeks as he finally allowed himself the luxury of being supported.