And your mind cracks

"This is all your fault. All of it. I hope you know it." Yellow didn't care about the Larson, what he said, what he wanted, no. He continued hissing to Arthur, to that fucking useless piece of meat. He wanted to know Arthur hears him. He wanted to know Arthur knows how much he hated him. He... "You told me, you were sorry you blamed me." "I lied." Yellow felt almost thrilled, feeling his or rather Arthur's eyes wetting. He could see his hands trembled, as Arthur put them back closer to piano cords. "...you also told me you never forget me." Yellow scoffed, wanting to say something spiteful, yet, as the first notes of piano disturbed the ensuing silence, something changed. Yellow could feel his consciousness getting wrapped with familiar presence, soft, as if it was a veil of some sorts, tingly, as if he could now feel every inch on his body and oh... It was his body. And he was god once again. He came back where he belonged to. He is God. He is the Kind in Yellow. He's back! Yellow wanted to laugh... yet nothing came out. And then suddenly Yellow, the God, the deceiving, felt dread wash over him. He couldn't brush it off, he couldn't move, couldn't scream, couldn't even fucking see. Yellow... just was there. He was where he belonged to, he was now a God he always was. But somehow it felt even worse than in a body of a mere mortal. Yellow was just a small piece of greatness. He didn't and couldn't decide anything, no matter how hard he tried. And in that exact moment the soul and mind of an eldritch God cracked again with the phantom sounds of a piano.