I spent half an hour scrambling through large threads of wheat, pushing them aside and having to smack away the occasional pest. I stuck by my values, believing that everyone has to survive for the benefit of everyone else. In this case, we needed him for healing, I needed him for his compassion. Eventually, I could hear a guitar playing, and could sight a small shack by my left. At least to a fair distance.

I ran to the sounds of Stanley's music. Obviously, being an insect, he sounded terrible now. He kept insisting to play to himself, claiming that it was good for his well-being. Well, I did know someone else's well-being being threatened. I brushed away the last few upright wheat, getting on a small path and stepping on the shack's stairs. I looked back to the clinic, which wasn't far enough to be a part of the horizon, yet seemed quite a distance from where I was. I knocked gently on Stanley's door, before stupidly realising he was outside on his deck. He had to call to me while sitting on a wheeless office chair. "Milloon? What brings you here? Haven't talked to you for a while." He grumbled, swiveling towards me and crossing his arms. He laid down his guitar like a gun; gently and making sure it wouldn't get stepped on.

Anyway, about that... me and Stanley had a falling out a year ago. I made a man-sized (insect-sized) reaper so that he could farm the wheat easily, although he broke his back on that. Said it was too heavy or some other ridiculous reason. Regardless, he was pissed at me for a while. "Stanley, you can punch me after you come around the clinic." Stanley gulped. It wasn't easy to see through his insect body, but I could something was off. "Hugo's chest got crushed by the aqueduct pipe. And by God, I will guarantee you he won't survive the night. Not in that rust bucket. You won that bet right? Well, it's gonna be useful for something now." I continued, ignoring Stanley's expression.

"Listen, er... I lied. I just got drunk for two days and fell into a nasty coma." Because of Stanley's lie, my previous statement became 'Stanley, I'm gonna punch you after I come back from the clinic.' Or rather: "You bastard. You took away my house keys for that?! That may be the least of our problems: Hugo's dying, and I thought I could count on you to save his damn life..." I turned my back on Stanley, facepalming slowly as I got another hand on my face. "Oh..."

"Hey. At least we're even. I don't have to punch you anymore." And with that, I just jerked around suddenly, charged up to Stanley and delivered a blow to his face. His mandible snapped instantly as he fell off his chair, while he landed just a few centimetres away from the edge that separate the deck and the wheat field. A one metre wouldn't kill him, yet I wished that did happen. That, and he'd regrow that pretty soon. "...ouw." He murmured, sitting up and rubbing his face. His guitar was just beside him.

"Yeah. Whatever. That pretty thing of yours' will grow back pretty soon. Maybe it would heal faster if Hugo wasn't dyin' as we speak." I thought Stanley would be pissed at me for another year, although it turned out he believed that was what he deserved. So, I just walked down the stairs and his dusty pathway, taking the long route back to the clinic. If it took five minutes to walk from that to the rest of the community, then I definitely didn't want to spend half an hour wadding through a wheat field again.

I had to accept Hugo would die. At least, according to the appearance of his injuries.