"..." As I stood where once thousands had before, the weight of their sorrow brought down the world unto my own shoulders. It wasn't my burden to bear for what their government got themselves caught up in, but now I have become their Atlus. The fatality list was released yesterday on national television and marked the third time this world lost so much human life in less than thirty seconds. I had fought once for a dream, a prayer forgotten by the old one's that my mother died passing on to me. A hope that one day this elaborate deterrence would bring people together in the name of the peace it was originally conceived for. I used my name and fighting spirit as a vessel to have that promise reach out to the world when I defeated Alexander nearly five years ago. To remind everyone the desire to save each other from the tragedy of powers clashing was the reason we traded blows with one another. Only for the founders of this goal to do the very thing that caused their revolution.
Nothing else mattered. My mother's desire for us to finally unite was gone. I was content with living my final days knowing I had at least illuminated the path for the world to follow. And now it'll all but be forgotten, and fear will consume the masses. And born from such a wicked fear will be a hatred that will ignite the flames of distrust and division in a blinding white blaze. And all I fought and lost will be forgotten and buried beneath the soot and ash of such a terrible flame.
I fell to my knees as I stared down the destruction in it's entirety. I've never been a man of God, but I imagine this was what hell would take form of. It would not be loud and chaotic, but painfully silent. There would be no sharp reds and flames to illuminate the terror, only a never ending grey that would hold no life in it's cold embrace. If man's paradise was a beautiful light, then this is the shadow it would cast. This is where the world was heading to.
"No... Not yet..." getting off my knees and to my feet, purpose suddenly took hold. "Tragedy need not create more Tragedy... even Hope emerged from Pandora's Box...!" After one last glance of the city ruins, burning the landscape into my mind, I turned my head away and faced the horizon. The sun was rising out from behind the grey skies. "One last time... I must fight, one last time!" My body may be starting to fade, but with the last of my fighting spirit, and the memories of millions being held on my shoulders, I will fight. I already illuminated the path, but now I will set the course. I won't let my world be taken into this shadow of man. Even if that shadow once belonged to the people who wanted to do the same decades before.
As I departed forth the prepare for the coming battle though, something felt... wrong. As if a piece of the shadow over that desolate land had began to follow me back. Maybe it was the remaining emotions left of all who had died there. Or maybe it's the sickness trying to prevent my victory. Could it even be my fear of failure...? I shook off the negative flow of thoughts that came from this observation. Such poisonous thoughts will not help me, I needed to have a clear mind for the monumental task that lay ahead in a few months. I will fight for these people, and for the generations of the future so they may never again see the horror left behind here. But first, I'll have to enter back into this society before I traverse into the fight once again.
YOU ARE READING
The Wanderer's Tournament
Aventura"In 1945, the second World War had left the world scarred. Three weeks after the news of what was done to end war reached the rest of the nations and countries, thousands of nameless souls gathered everywhere the conflict took precedence in, and too...
