There's no time for anything, no time to cry out, no time to process what's going to happen. He barely has time to open his mouth before the crack registers - and then, there's nothing to register at all. His life extinguishes in an instant, legs buckling beneath him, the signals to keep himself upright so suddenly absent.

His consciousness feels like it's been set onto a light-switch. On, off, and within seconds... on again.

Jon stands before his wide-eyed corpse, ghostly feet planted exactly where he'd just been standing. The wind is knocked out of him, and for a moment, the rest of the world lost to him, he can only stare. It's only as the shock begins to chip off of him do his hands return to his upper arms, and he nods, slow and stiff.

"Oh. I--- y-yes, that's... fair. It's for the best."

He's not yet budged from the still, cold, fading horror to look up, to catch that he isn't truly alone with himself.