🕷️|The Next Battle

[8] BLACK AND WHITE [8]

This got kind of cringey. Sorry.

The Chosen One turned to face The Dark Lord. He nodded to the Color Gang. "Get out of here, stay, I don't care. I'll take this one." He said. The Second Coming stepped up. "Let me help!" He volunteered, grinning. The Chosen One stared at his younger brother with a sigh. Then he nodded. "Everyone else, leave. No need for all of us to be in more danger." He said, and the Color Gang, for once, listened. They had risked their lives for him, it was his turn to do the same.

"Look, Dark. I know we have our differences, but can't we just-" He was immediately slammed into the side of a wall, hitting his head. He let out a groan. "Okay. Guess not." He dodged a punch to the face, ducking and grabbing The Dark Lord's legs to drop him to the ground. Instead he got his foot stepped on by The Dark Lord's boot. And those shoes had damn heels. "Dammit, Dark— wait—"

Oh, forget it. He couldn't reason with this psychopath. He thrusted his hands to the side to ignite them in flames, lifting one to throw a fire ball at The Dark Lord, who dodged to the side and lunged at him again. The Chosen One ducked under him and turned to face him, throwing another fireball that was quickly dodged. Dammit. He couldn't land a blow.

He supposed he should expect that much, The Dark Lord most likely learned from his past mistakes, while The Chosen One had been in captivity... Chosen sighed as his thoughts raced. What did he do? He couldn't play back-and-forth forever, with them simply taking turns dodging and attacking. Until, of course, The Dark Lord did what he did best. Trick the dude.

Fucking hate this guy, I swear.

The Dark Lord feigned a punch right to the face, and ended up kneeing The Chosen One in the spot.

This fucking BASTARD.

The Chosen One huffed, glared up at his former friend. "YOU FUCKIN' CHEATER!" He yelled. The Dark Lord just grinned and shrugged. "Whatever it takes to win." He said. The Chosen One glared as he stabled himself, catching his breath. That pissed him off, and it pissed him off bad. So what he did?

He charged right towards The Dark Lord.

The Chosen One charged right on him, punching him across the face, much to the others surprise. After he got on top of him and pinned him down, raised his fist to punch him again, readying. Until he felt something.

His breath hitched in his throat as he bothered to look below at the shining Vira-Blade penetrating his skin. He could smell the burning. He could feel the pain. But he didn't scream. The Chosen One stayed silent as he tilted to the side. The Dark Lord retracted his blade, and The Chosen One swayed, before toppling over to the side, trying to catch his breath. He couldn't even hear anything now.

So, The Chosen One took his final breath. That moment seemed to slow down, to share with him his best memories, his friends, family. Family. Who was his family? Did he still consider The Dark Lord such?

Yes. Said an unmistakably voice inside of him. It was correct. Yes he was. The Dark Lord was a brother to him, and always would be. He surprised himself with his quick forgiveness, but it didn't matter. The world was already long white, being so for a while as his body lay.

Perhaps his brain was just relaying all the good so he could die in peace. 'It was as if my life flashed before my eyes,' some may say. Some who got out of near death experience. The Chosen One never took those words to be so literal until then. Until it happened. Until all the good came rushing back so he could have a false happy ending. So the hope could come back, and wouldn't die out, even after he had.

And that white glimmer faded, leaving nothing but simple black.