It's been a lot for everyone. Quite frankly its never STOPPED being a lot, and Ed kind of doubts it'll ever stop. Three years of this dimensional bullshit and he's become pretty damned resigned.

But looking at these pyres and the sticks in their hands, knowing that whatever "choice" is made will just be more of the same?

Nah. Nah, fam.

Ed walks off to the side and kneels in the sand before an electric crackle of energy reforms a chunk of sand into a stone bowl with a simple cut out mural sticking up from the back in the shape of a middle finger. Then he breaks the stick over his knee, chucks it into the bowl, and walks off.

The statement there is fairly clear, he thinks.