Sometimes shit happens. Hey, it's not always your day, it's alright. One moment you're riding high, soaring above these mud-riddled plains with the king of mercs by your side, another, you're running far away from the crater he blew himself up in. Y...
hi hello new chapter enjoy ! little doodle of kal and anton
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In the name of desperation.
Tick. A head splits into thirds. Blood drips into the keg. Beer's fucked, the whole batch.
In the name of wretched pain.
Tock. The blade dances through a crowd of carefully constructed fibers. Muscle fibers, that is. A splash of red splatters over the girl's face.
In the name of all creation.
Tick. Andrew grips her hand tight. He doesn't want to get his clothes dirty. He doesn't want her blood on himself. His brain is hardwired to prevent that from happening at all costs. From letting her bleed.
Gone insane.
Tock. It takes the tiny swordsman a fracture of a second to sheathe his blade. With each sheathe and unsheathe, another body drops to the soaked balks. Alcohol and blood, it's all the same at this point.
We're so fucked.
Tick. Andrew's a cornered animal. His brain's mush. The shit they serve in Babel? The artificial slushie they dare call "mashed potatoes?" That's the consistency of his body's control center. That's what's controlling the endoskeleton under his skin. Skin and bones, and meat and fat – fibers and nerves, bundles of cables and surges of electricity – all of it, functions wrong. Andrew sees the little swordsman finish another round of ballet routines. His performance garners no cheers or claps, just the grim thudding of flesh splurging on the floor. Weaponry clatters at his feet. A mercenary or two lay out a foundation for his sandals to dance on. W twitches in his hold, but the brain doesn't even allow the thought of letting go.
Shit outta luck.
Outta luck, they were. These poor, underpaid goons. With barely enough silk to cover the scars that mapped their adventures, these Sarkaz warriors had nowhere else to turn, other than their own graves. The city of Kazdel had no graveyards. The Soul Furnace it was, then.
