This be the end

"But hatred gripped his heart tightly, making him tremble from head to toe. He would have liked to fight, one last time. To have the enemy within his reach, to see a blood that wasn't his. He looked away from the myriad droplets around him and went back to contemplating his gaping wound. It was being sucked inside his chest. In turn, he was sucked in. He saw only vast plains bleached by waving floors of blazing daisies, under a bare sun and the silvery reflections of a river in the distance, edged with reeds and dragonflies – yes, thousands of dragonflies dancing in the green wind of the grass, their wings rustling furiously, deafening, whirling around the tips of his fingers; he felt the hair on the nape of his neck bristle; the sun was duplicated to infinity, dazzling, repeated in thousands more suns in the iridescent prisms of their finely metallic and diaphanous, ridged elytra, and each of the thousands of suns on each of the thousands of facets burst with such blinding rage and such opaline wrath on the coruscating plains lying before him that he was forced to shield his face with his hand, and to close his eyes."