An Eminence? No, I am just a reaper (OC story)

Arc 3: Void victory, eternal hatred

Speech = ''...''
Thoughts = [... ]

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[Continuation of chapter 12 (sins of the arrogant)]

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Soon, the atrocities of this deranged time will be nothing but a memory....that its what their leaders say through their crooked mouths while they rub their hands behind their backs with ambition, what generals hiding behind the lines tell over and over their weary and worn down soldiers, what priest chant and gospel at their followers.

But words will not save us.

Lies will not protect us.

And its their blind optimism that will destroy us.

In the spires and the slums, the people we protect speak of victory.

Victory, as the world crumbles to dust in a agonical death of its soul..

Victory, as the kingdoms burn and empires cave in around us in storms of blood and heathen fire..

Victory, as entire generations of all backgrounds and races rage against the failing of the life itself, their blood their meager transaction to slow down death for just one more day

Victory as the man they vilified now turned hero holds their hopes and dreams in his back

...

...

Ha...Victory.

(-Speech of the Dark Lord and master of mankind at the high of the Great war-)

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Death surrounded him...

It spoke to him, it called him, it wanted him with a passion only equal to the desires of an old lover...

And it was hard to image why.

The skies bled over him, stained by unspeakable malice and cruelty that raped the natural order of things and made a mockery of it in what laid behind.

The air was an overheated mess of flying beams of death and gunfire that created strays of light past through the air it in rapid succession as they tried to reach targets which he could not yet see.

The acrid stench of smoke coming out from a million corpses rotting in the ground smothered the sun in a thick, heavy blanket of darkness, one even stronger than the one that had previously been in its place...

Or perhaps it was the massive, terrific sight of a colossal flesh made battleship, the very same one that had ruled the skies for days and days on end during the siege, now laying inert in a massive crater behind him. Its thick hive and huge guns useless now as they had not been able to stop it from being mauled to death from the inside out.

Holes and fissures all over the ship, where flames and blood could still be seen slipping out from the cracks of its grotesque shape. But none more striking than the massive gash that had literally and metaphorically disemboweled the ship and which had probably killed it for good...as he had made his way out from it.

He closed his eyes, his body feeling heavy..

All was mixed with a heavy tone of iron and burnt out copper from the torrents of blood that drenched the soil and the magic hovering in the air that made bitter anything in their mouths, making the air all the more heavier than it already was.

It was a disheartening sight..., if he had been a lesser man he would have been grasping on his neck to pry a single, useful breath through crushed windpipes..or perhaps he would have fallen to his knees at the obnoxious and cathartic visage of destruction laid before him like a drawing that only the most sinful of souls could find its beauty.