End of an Era

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...A light shower of droplets invaded the thick, heavy atmosphere in the area. The sober solemn of all people within jurisdiction grew larger and larger, until the sounds of footsteps- though muddled by the increasingly apparent rain- approach the currently present visitors. The people present give a brisk nod at the head in reaction to this intrusion, which fades shortly after the realization of the entities of the four individual, going about back to their own business.
"Tch. Look who's crew couldn't resist butting in, after all." The exception retorted a couple yards away from the new arrivers. The usually cynicism tone, only this time marked with an *un*usually scornful edge to match the bitterness of the occasion. No doubt, it was a calling card of the forgotten one. Arms folded as a telltale sign of an incoming mean streak, they scoffed at the head of the newcomers. "Here to wave your never-ending superiority, aren't you?"
"No. We've come here for the very same reason you have, believe it or not." The leader of the quartet replied, in a familiarly robotic, yet somehow tender tone. "To remember *them*."
The forgotten scoffed. "Don't feed me *that* superficial bullshit", they sneered. "This is the happiest you've been in your damn life, isn't it?". As the utters this sentence, the forgotten's voice seemed to harden.
"Hey, watch it with that tone of yours," the follower closest to the leader replied, sternly. "We're not here to pick fights, but.." The individual began to approach the forgotten, but the leader- the mastermind- extended an arm of theirs, blocking the path.
"We won't be in anyone's way at all. If you end up having any problems with our presence, we'll leave."
The mastermind's tone seemed sincere enough. The forgotten glared at them, judging their face. After a few, tense seconds of quiet, the forgotten's posture and expression relaxed. They then turned over, walking away in resignation. "Hmph. I don't give a damn what you're here to do, so long as you're not spitting on any graves." They muttered, within earshot of all four arrivers.
"Where does that guy get off, treating us like that?" The bulkiest of the group bellowed. "We oughta have put them in their place!"
"We had no right." The mastermind responded, continuing forward with the three behind them. "Besides, this is more personal to *them* than any four of us combined."
"How so?", the small, most innocent looking member retorted.
"Because the forgotten one has ties that stretch back farther than our existence." The mastermind, not turning around, patted them on the top of their head. "Their feelings are by far the most complex. It's best we respect their internal struggle and move on."
The little one nodded in agreement. It wasn't about being the bigger man- it was about being sensitive to the situation. The mastermind seemed to always put extra thought into these things.
The same could be said about nearly everything they did, actually. The lad could only properly name a few times the mastermind had been outwitted, out of several dozens of encounters. One of which was by another version of the mastermind *themself*, and another by a centuries old being. Needless to say, intellect- along with the mastermind's overwhelming determination- were two of their truest, most powerful assets.
And yet, neither of them had been enough to keep them from gathering here this very afternoon. The childlike entity wondered how the mastermind at all coped with their losses. They weren't one to express emotion, after all. Either way, the small one decided, they'd still be there for the mastermind. No matter what.
Finally arriving to their destination, the four found themselves staring down a granite statue and gravestone. The former had a person giving a thumbs up, as well as a strange grin that gave of bittersweet memories of an older time in their life. But the gravestone, was almost completely empty. Not an epitaph to remember by, a quote to inspire, or a date or birth and death to engrave in the heart. All that was there was a name gone sour, more pungent than the most poisonous of acids. A name that not even the mastermind themself could name without buckling down under the overwhelming weight of guilt they felt.
Walter.