Do you think you will make in time? Your leader is probably already gone, Trailblazer.
Let those legs burn with desperation. Each ache, a means to balm the terror, to cleave through a thorned garden of wicked incantation to burn a path.
Trailblaze is meant to cleave new Paths upon non-existence, impossibility, Finality itself. The loftiness of such notions are driven to silence in the breath of this very beholder, searing lungs and a spirit surging with an alarming rate of strength as those words hit true. A haunting whisper, a grim chuckle that shakes the stars with malevolence, the language of hope had found itself barred long ago but someone who knows just a touch too much.
Too well versed in the art of Falsehood. Laughing Mad.
Caelus finds himself becoming a blight that streaks rebellion across the land entrenched with Voracity's shadow, a gluttony that feasts blinding on that hope that aches for proof that once again reignites the taste for life. He allows the Paths within to roar as the grounds are torn asunder, wicked gardens, plagues masked with laughter, the golden ichor of Destruction misguided. For now the blades of light locked within his grasp tear their golden arcs through acidic rain and the now bloodied brilliance of his foes.
Fiery waterfalls ripples at his memory, briefly breaking the vision entrenched in this war. Hints of a gaze trimmed with patience and a melancholy that words just can't describe, how it's bravely (fearfully) hidden. Time and time again, there was a simple push upon his shoulder, the approval in finding scattered strength and to gain the insistence to dare upon the precipice of shattered memory, to dare push forward even within a singular drop of what made him upon his back.
For even that very title will find itself devoured if it stands in your way.
"If she's burning, then that's all I need to know. That she hasn't stopped for a single damn second!" His voice doesn't bother to seethe that visceral anger at the very notion. Death holds close for all Nameless and it's a proud mantle. Even now, Stardust Ace finds itself caving in the fabric of space itself, fighting through the Voracity's taint as a hall of bitter roars find themselves dismantled into oblivion. A quick slide under serrated blades and the clack of unnatural teeth, three strikes returned, each crushing through those life slaying implements and drawing them to the mercy of the heavens above.
Even now his pace refuses to rest as skies embittered with scarlet burns down into a muted gray, the rainfall escalating as it feels like the very Elation that stubbornly clings to life thrives higher. Joy is the sister of Sorrow, and the duality is importance itself, this very agony itself was a guide he intends to make the most of. Being akin to swift shadow, Caelus' movements darted across ruined building tops, displaced into the air, glinting with the teeth of shattered windows as raging Path power looms like a curse upon the skies.
'I still want to find out more, a whole damn lot. Don't you dare let you voice get eclipsed!' Hope fashioned as a threat, a stubborn insistence that he hopes can reach. The flames of Murata will not be eclipsed.
Trailblaze never cared about Reality or Falsehoods to begin with.
