"No," Wilhelm answers, spitting the word like shrapnel. He cuts an emphatic gesture with his hand, shakes his head. "Who the fuck would be happy like this?"

Crushed under the weight of guilt. Waiting for the guillotine to fall, the bomb to detonate. While he isn't shouting, a sharp edge glints in his voice.

"Everyone keeps saying that it wasn't my fault. You, Kyle, Rhy. But it was my fault. It doesn't matter if it was an accident, that just means that guy got killed because I made a stupid mistake, and your friend got hurt too. A whole city was burned to the ground because I couldn't...I couldn't do one simple fucking thing right."

Feeling a prickling sneaking up behind his eyes, he sucks in a breath and expels it slowly. His gaze glides up the curving shelves and terraces that comprise Istredd's tower. What do you want? Hardly anyone has asked him that in his life.

"I...don't want this power anymore. If I could just get rid of it, I would."

Like when panic starts cannibalizing him, and he wishes he could claw his way out of his skin.