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Snake slid their hands under her, scooping her up in one motion. "We've no time to waste, human, they have fled for now, but the Flock can't be too far away." She made no motion to resist, allowing the cloak to cover her form as they carried her away. She was so tired.

"I suppose you will teach me then." Snake turned back, and looked at her with that same grin, though it was much less wicked. "We have much to cover, and much to learn."

Her body was in tune with the sun, as it had begun to rise, just as she did. When she woke up, she found herself tucked into bed. She questioned how she made it back up in her drunken stupor, but put little thought into it otherwise. It was so soft and comfy, she felt no desire to leave. As her eyes slid back closed, a knock came from her door. "...just a moment...!" With a loud groan, she rolled herself out of bed and stumbled to the door. Behind it was the Den's owner. "Good morrow, dear. Did I wake you?" She slid past her and took a seat on her bed. "Good morrow, miss...er, no I was just resting my eyes until sunrise." She stretched her back, a bit of her belly bulging out as she did so. She was quick to cover it up with her arms. "What brings you up here so early, if I may ask...?" "I've come to give you some aid for your journey." She raised a clenched fist, opening it to reveal a necklace. When Halcyon took a closer look, her hands clasped onto her mouth. The pendant was a platinum bird sat on a jeweled branch, a branch from the Tree of Life. "This is...from the Doves. A charm to keep wandering spirits from corrupting the wearer. Where...where did you find this?!" No Cardinal would dare part with their pendant unless Death swept them away first. "You aren't the first to rest your wings, and you won't be the last." Still the woman smiled, complacent throwing body after body to an unknown evil. "Now then, I hope you have everything in order. I've a guide to lead you part of the way." Halcyon was already having second thoughts, but voicing them would do no good. As she reached for her armor, she frowned, knowing she was always good on her word, no matter how badly she wanted out. Well, almost always. The Den's owner left her a map and the Dove on her bed, leaving as quietly as she came. As she approached the forest's entrance, she spotted the scout. The man seemed keen on bolting the moment their eyes met. It didn't help that she was a bit fidgety herself. He was a small, nervous halfling, his eyes in a permanent wince. "I'll take ya as far as the creek and no more. If ya have any second thoughts, just run. I won't tell the boss one way or another." She offered a genial smile and nodded, knowing that she would have to pay off the debt regardless. There wasn't much farther she could run, and to hide from someone else was a stress too much to bear. "I appreciate you coming out to assist me." He snorted and spit out a wad of phlegm, the whole act threatening to vacate her breakfast. "I'm on the clock. Let's be done with it already." As they entered the forest, the trees seemed to grow in size and numbers, their leaves creating a canopy that blocked out all but the sun's strongest rays. The animals that frolicked in the brush grew less and less, the chirping of early birds fading into silence. As the day went on, the only sounds they heard were their footsteps, and the scout's ragged breathing. "How much farther until the creek...?" It was more her thinking aloud, as the scout either wasn't listening, or would refuse to answer. The more they walked, the more she felt there was no creek at all. As they walked deeper and deeper into the forest, the trees and grass seemed to disappear, though it was still as dark as ever. What life still remained was fungi and vines creeping on rock walls. Somehow, they had entered a cave. "Are you sure this is the right way...?" A few more paces, and she could hear the sound of running water. "From here, ya go straight. You'll know you've made it when the gravestones start popping up." As they came upon the creek, she saw a drop toward the far left. This was much less a creek, and more the mouth of a waterfall, which lead into the darkness of Gods-know-where. She looked to the scout for some more guidance and possibly answers, but he was already making his way back out. Keeping her mouth shut, she hiked up her robes and carefully waded through the running water. A few times she almost lost her footing, each misstep almost bringing her closer to the abyss than her destination. Crossing the creek, she made her way past some minor cave collapses. With some difficulty, she managed to climb up the medium piles of boulder and rock, making her way straight, just as the scout said. As she jumped off a small boulder, she couldn't help but spot two men in the distance. From what she could see, they looked to be rooting around the remains of an overturned carriage. Though she wasn't much good at sensing and reading another's aura, the two travelers made it quite easy, as they seemed to exude darkness, it coming to her like the scent of corpse. As she approached them, the taller of the two turned and bowed, nudging his friend. "What brings such a lovely girl to these parts anyway, hmm?" He wrung his wrinkled hands together, gold rings glittering. "...I could ask the same to you. This is a dead end. For your own safety, I...think you should head back." The scout's words rung in her mind, but she did her best to ignore them. "Well, we'll be on our way once we're done dearie. We've just got some 'liberating' to do." "Liberating?" "Don't be so daft, it isn't a good look for you." He groaned, his brow furrowed and his arms crossed. "Dead men tell no tales and have no need for worldly possessions. So we relocate them to more...worthy owners, such as my associate and myself." Pearly white teeth glittered as bright as his gold, both probably stolen from a poor soul. "Grave robbers?!" She couldn't believe they had the audacity to flaunt their stolen wares right in her face. Her hands gripped her staff until the knuckles were white.  She grit her teeth and did nothing to hide the disgust welling up inside. "How insidious!" "We prefer the term 'Relocators'..." "You're the reason malevolent spirits began popping up in the forest! You've disturbed the resting and have created a hive for evil! You're costing lives here for the sake of your greed!" If words could kill, her's would be laced with venom. He laughed mirthlessly. "You've got some damn nerve girl...!" He unsheathed the dagger and lunged. In that split second, she spoke the Force incantation with such a booming voice, she blasted the men on their backs and dashed past them. "May you choke with the gold chain around your neck!" She yelled as she ran deeper and deeper into the graveyard. Though she couldn't tell where she was running, she could feel herself growing closer, the fungi and vines becoming less and less, some even the different stages of dying. It wasn't long until she slowed down, as she was never one for endurance running, she was more of a sprinter. In between her heavy pants, she could hear the yells of the grave robbers growing louder and louder. Even though her chest was burning and her muscles ached, she was off into another sprint, making it into the middle of the mass grave. They had already begun to catch up, and as she looked back, she tripped on uneven stone and crashed to the ground. "I'll strip the marrow from your bones, witch!" He hissed, his friend coming closer. The aches were worse, and she could have sworn she broke something, but she wasn't going to give up that easily. Using her staff as a crutch, she heaved herself on her good leg. Giving the pendant around her neck one last touch, she began another incantation. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to emulate the voice that came before, but it came out shaky and weak. Just as they came upon her, a gust of wind hit her and she heard the men stop in their tracks with a loud squish. She trembled fiercely, and she could hear popping and choking, the squirting and sloshing of /something/. Cracking open her left eye, she saw her pursuers hanging in the air, thick black tendrils acting as their nooses. Blood dripped from their necks, as their heads rolled around beneath their dangling feet. Their arms and legs twitched, dancing in the air like macabre marionettes. And then the tendrils vanished, dropping the bodies and managing to stain her robes and armor with their blood. Halcyon wanted to scream and run away, but the shock and pain radiating through her body kept her silent and grounded, though still trembling. A few moments of dead silence passed before layered voices behind her released a single scream. "If I find another human raiding my land, I will do more than rip them apart! I'll banish them to the pits of the Underworld where they'll be eaten by hounds again and again forever!" Following their shriek was a sigh of annoyance. "And what is this...?" Halcyon turned to look and finally she let out a scream. The being that stood before her was clad in broken armor, seemingly changing colors with each step, like a pearl. They had the face of a human, but their eyes were a void, iris and sclera one. They wielded a sword meant for two hands with one, and held a sphere of dark energy with the other. They were a Knight of Death. "And here I thought my pets had taken care of them all..." The tendrils spread from the sphere, latching onto her arms and legs, hoisting her up into the air. "I wonder why you were spared, I'm not in the mood for toys..." The Knight chuckled as Halcyon let out another scream. "Warrior of Darkness, I beg of you spare me!" Tears were already running down her face. "I am not here to disturb your rest or the rest of your servants, I was only here to investigate! Please I mean you no harm and if you let me go, you'll never see another living soul again!" The tendrils brought her closer to the Knight, giving her a better look at their features. "You cry like a Dove, and look..." Their hand touched the pendant around her neck. "You even have your own pair of wings...but you came here with those men, and there's no way I can let scum just come and go as they please." They heaved their sword into the air. Panicking, Halcyon grasped her staff as tightly as she could and shrieked a mixed incantation just as the blade came down upon her. The graveyard was swallowed in a bright light and thunder boomed in her ears. The last she felt before everything disappeared was her body hitting the ground. "Death hurts..." She laughed as her head pounded, each time more painful than the last. Everything was dark, but she could still feel the pain flowing through each bit of her being. She could hear the drip of water nearby, and she swore she heard the crackle of flames. "Young Dove, you are very much alive." Her eyes shot open, the layered voices snapping her from the unreality. As they darted around, she saw the stone floor she lay on, as well as the torches that hung on the corners of the room. The voices were right, she was still, by nothing short of a miracle, alive. "Thank the Gods...!" She tried to sit herself up with little success, falling over as she saw the face illuminated in the wan light. "You...! Oh Gods...!" Dirty hands covered her face. "I won't hurt you, priestess... It seems my pets were right in sparing you. I guess you had nothing to do with those men at all..." They leant back on an old wooden chair, those eyes keeping her gaze. "Th-they were grave robbers, intent on stealing from the dead, and from me if they had their way! I had knocked them back before they could touch me and ran toward your domain, I had no idea that there was anything more than angered spirits!" She pulled herself into a fetal position, despite the pain. "A proper priestess and you still let yourself writhe in pain?" They laughed, and she could see sharp teeth behind dark lips. "Your belongings are safe, rest yourself, eat, whatever it is you need to do, and heal yourself." She nodded, still terrified, but exhausted. Pulling out some potions from her sack, she downed one after another, and ate some of the stale sweets she bought from her shopping trip. Casting a medium healing spell, she regained a decent amount of energy and was able to reduce the swelling on her sprained leg. The aches were still there, but they were much more bearable, and she could stand on her feet. "Now that you're up, I've prepared a bit of food. Humans should be able to eat it." "Y-you're a Knight of Death, why are you acting so kind...? N-not that I mind of course! It just seems odd that you would help me right after you tried to destroy me...that's all..." "You should have paid more attention in your studies, priestess. I come to reap the souls of the wicked and unholy...and anyone who gets on my nerves, we don't have limits in our domain." Death Knights acted as the guardians of souls, and the punishers of the wicked, but they still had the capacity to eliminate even those who bore Light, and sometimes did so. "Lucky for you, you aren't any of those things. ...Do you not remember what you did before now?" Her head pulsed in pain just trying to remember. "There was a bright light...and a storm...I'm sorry I don't remember much else..." "Pure of mind and heart, truly. You proved your status as a Dove and not an imposter. That enough guarantees your safety." Halcyon sighed in relief and hobbled over to a nearby stool. "That doesn't mean I haven't questions of my own." She tensed up as she sat down. "You are no Cardinal, yet you bear your group's crest--" "The owner of the Dragon's Den in Centaii had it in her possession and she gave it to me for this excursion, I don't know where she got it from and she wouldn't tell me, I didn't steal it I swear!" She sucked in a huge breath and exhaled, panting. "You're a funny human." They spooned some stew into a wooden bowl and handed it to her. "Eat and tell me your given name." She gingerly plucked the bowl from their fingers and tried to quietly sip the cooling broth. "I...am Halcyon, my Lord...and if I may be so bold, what is your name?" "I have none, but you are welcome to address me as you please. 'My Lord' is a bit too /human/ for me." They slurped up the stew, meat and all, with no finesse. She couldn't help but feel amused at the display. She was about to speak when she noticed something slithering around the bones of the Knight's arm. Upon closer inspection, she screamed. "S-snake!" Hopping up, she banged her knee on the table and slammed back down, almost falling over. "Is that your designation for me? A bit simple but I guess it can't be helped..." The Knight paid no mind as the serpent coiled around the exposed bone on their arm. Her eyes darted back and forth between the snake and their eyes. She calmed down a bit, still wary. "N-no it's not...nevermind...!" "You humans are so clumsy, I'll never know how you flourish in such a state." Snake chuckled,  dark lips in a smirk. Whether it was nerves or enjoyment she didn't know, but Halcyon couldn't help but join in.

The sun was quickly setting as she came upon the torches of a nearby town. Halcyon sighed, her knees buckling as she climbed down the rocky slope. It had been days since she had seen any hint of humans. Abandoned carriages by the road, huts not lived in for quite a while, and discarded campsites seemed to be the norm. Coming to the town's main gate, she was greeted with a yell from the nearby guards. She froze, biting down on her tongue, and quietly praying to the Gods. There was no way word had spread so soon, especially between sects. "Aye, traveler!" A guard, large in stature and armed with a particularly sharp halberd, approached her. 'This was the end,' She mentally panicked. 'They've found me and are going to lock me up and ship me back! I'm going to be on Sightless duty for the rest of my mortal life...!' "...Have you a place to stay for the night? If not, you're welcome to stay at the local inn! There be no safe havens for quite a while past this town!" She cast a quick glamour (her last) to hide the look of absolute panic on her face. Still, her voice was shaky as she thanked the guard. He was perplexed, but said nothing as he stepped aside, granting her entrance. She strode in before breaking into a full sprint to the center of town. She caught her breath by the fountain in the plaza, taking a seat to rest her weak legs and sore feet. The town, despite its small size, was ornate, the streets paved in cobblestones, the building fronts decorated in columns, and even the fountain itself was decorated with a pack of men and women in the center. They were most likely heroes from an era long ago, but none she had heard of. Slipping off her dirt caked shoes, she dipped her feet into the clear water. She flinched from the cold, but sighed in relief. She was safe for now, and would be able to rest. As she gently swirled her feet, she reached into her pouch for a snack. She was out of supplies. "I just wanted some fruit..." She pouted, begrudgingly getting out of the water and back on her feet. With a bit of wandering, she came upon the shops, each boasting fresh foods, weapons, armors, and more. She threw her hands up in delight and skipped where the scent of food was strongest. As she entered, the smell of fresh bread and meat was so strong, she could almost taste it. "Look lads, we've a new face!" The baker smiled as a few elves peeked from the kitchen. "Welcome to Centaii, lass, and welcome to my little shop. If you've got gold, I've got goods, all fresh and very delicious. She walked over to the pastries, pressing her face against the glass. Although she hadn't taken enough to last her, she was smart enough to take her life savings with her. She breathed heavily as she perused the sweets. "As a matter of fact..." With the shops all closing for the night, Halcyon waddled out of the plaza, with a sack full of everything she could ask for. She even managed to buy new armor and a staff with little suspicion. Though she was full of energy, her body throbbed with aches. More wandering led her to the inn,  a humble wooden structure that clashed against the stone. There was nothing remarkable about the inn, save for its sign. Two dragons, one black, the other blue coiled around. "The Dragon's Den...sounds friendly." As she stepped inside, she was struck with the scents of smoke and cheap ale. Patrons of all shapes, sizes, and races were drinking, singing, and yelling, all of it in good fun. Seeing a free spot close to the entrance, she took a seat by the bar. A few adventurers looked her way, but took no notice otherwise. She would make sure to have enough for a bed, but for now, a drink was needed. Breathing a sigh of relief, she rooted through her knapsack, pulling out a used tome she found in one of the shops. Turning to a random page, she came upon a spell that she hadn't heard of before. A quick skim revealed it to be a Force spell, where the user could exert pressure to knock back attackers. Combined with another spell, it could be used as an offensive attack. She absentmindedly twisted her staff, reading up on minor spells, as the bartender wiped around her. "So what'll it be, miss?" She flinched, too deep into her thoughts to notice his approach. "...!" She slammed the tome shut and shielded it with her arms. "J-just some spiced rum, sir. And a room...if you're not full." Pouring the dark liquid into a thin glass, he sneered. "We're full up, miss. Drinks are many, but rooms are not." She slumped down, her head buried in her arms. The bartender let out a light chuckle and pushed the drink toward her. "If you've got the gold, the boss might take you in for the night. I make no promises, though." Lifting her head up, she took a few quick gulps of rum, a comfortable tingle and warmth pooling in her gut. She downs the rest of it, tossing a piece of gold on the bar. "Another." At the end of the night, she's made a pyramid of glasses, still sober enough to get off the stool without falling. With a bit more waddling, squeezing through big drunken mercenaries and soldiers, clashing steel and glass, she made her way to a back office. With a few light knocks, the door opened up, revealing a small old woman, with a cane twice her size. "Oh hello dear. I was on my way out for the night...and if you're looking for a room, we're just about full." Her smile was gentle, though her brows were knitted in apology. "I have gold!" She blurted out, her hand twisting nervously on her staff. "Just for the night and I'll be gone tomorrow...please. I've been on my feet for at least a fortnight, and there be no towns for miles more..." The owner stood in silence for a few moments, her kind expression unchanged. Halcyon couldn't help but frown, the idea of sleeping in the brush again made her morose. "Close the door and take a seat." She stiffly returned to the seat behind the desk, her arms folded on the table. Halcyon pushed the door just enough that it clicked softly and nervously made her way to the ratty chair. The woman smiled still, pulling out a key from under the desk. "Our last room was under a reservation, but it seems he never made it back. I'd be glad to give you a place to stay and wash for the night, but for this, I take not gold, but favors." "Favors...? Such as temporary employ? I can wash, though I cannot cook--" "Were it that simple, our reservation would have been filled by now. No, it's a bit more complicated than that. Seeing as you only need the room for tonight, and seeing as it's on your way..." She stopped and gave her a look-over, focusing on her staff and the tome nestled under her arm. "You're a priestess, aren't you?" She froze, eyes widening. A list of possible excuses and lies came to her head, but the rum had done its job. "...please don't tell anyone. Please, I beg of you I'll do anything and I'll be gone before you know it. Please don't make them send me back...!" "I only ask this as your skills would be ideal for my request. I care not your business with the Doves, or whatever else. Your secret is safe with me..." "As long as I do what you ask." She wrung her hands together, sweat streaking down the nape of her neck. "I can purify and expel whatever darkness lingers, but I make no promise as to how long it'll last...I flew the Nest early." "Past our quaint town, far from the beaten path, there's a mass grave buried in the thick of the forest." Bony fingers pointed to a faded map on the desk. "This has existed long before Centaii, and for the most part, the spirits left us in peace. This has changed. Day by day, the missing toll rises with no clues or trail left by the victims, except for one." "You want me to investigate and clear out any malevolent spirits?" As a Dove, she was taught quite a bit about the expulsion of spirits, but it was usually in small groups. A mass grave would be filled with much more, in both strength and numbers. "To begin with. Find the missing villagers and the source of the disturbance.  We've not much but if you can manage, the room is yours...and you'll have as much spiced rum as you can stomach." She chuckled as Halcyon covered her mouth with a blush. As she stepped inside, she kicked off her shoes and stumbled toward the bed, landing face first onto the soft sheets. She took a deep breath and sighed loudly. If she died tomorrow, at least she would be clean and well-rested. She slid up and unclasped the joints of her light breastplate, gently placing the armor on the nearby chair. Now on her back, she stared up at the ceiling. The room was just as quaint as the inn's facade, with just a bed, tub, and chair, with candles on the wall, casting shallow shadows. It was a mix of wood and old metal, with a single window facing the horizon. She felt herself drifting off to sleep until she remembered the tome tossed on the floor. The rum was beginning to cloud her mind as she took a seat and thumbed the book open to the basic Force spells. Many of the words in Common tongue looked like complete nonsense, but the incantations were as clear as day. Holding up a hand toward a candle on the wall, she spoke the first incantation. The candle's flame snuffed out and its top half snapped, falling to the floor. The frame of the candle-holder warped from the force of the pressure as well. Closing her eyes, she giggled. "Nice..."

He caught a glimpse of his clothes in the mirror, and gave a look of faint disgust. What remained of a simple, brown two piece suit was slathered in blood, of whose he hadn't a single idea, and sliced into dully colored confetti. What a waste. He readjusted the rear-view mirror as he barreled down the long stretch of highway, the pair of headlights being the only thing to pierce the darkness before him. He blindly reached for the glove compartment, picking out a pack of smokes. Luckily, one still remained, which was promptly lit with the in-car lighter (a godsend in times like these), and nestled between his already parted lips. Menthol and tobacco filled his lungs like fresh air could never do,  and he let out a low, prolonged sigh. Dealing with the other families was like dwelling with starved, beaten animals, pissed off and ready to sink their teeth at the first sign of weakness, or at least something tasty enough. But they held their own, with their empire expanding at Date's whim. At first, it was the small stuff, hits on some unpleasant folks, fixing fights, rigging games, nothing special or too messy. Then came the particularly brutal take overs, and Old Terumune kicking the bucket. From then, everyone thought the Date clan would tear themselves inside out, and they were /almost/ right. Yoshihime and Masamune would made sure of that. At the end of it, though, there could only be one, and it was the most well-deserved one too, in Kojuro's mind. // "With Old Man Takeda gone, we'll have to step up to the plate, eh?" His Cheshire grin could only be seen by the fleeting streetlights as they sped through back roads and empty streets. "It can be no one else but you, my  lord." With all of the other families in disarray, Fate itself handed the baton to the Date clan, and Masamune in particular. The roaring Tiger of Kai hadn't even cooled down in the morgue before they'd hit the road. Slain in broad daylight, before the very men sworn to protect him, without so much as a wave goodbye. He was the last in a long, long line of casualties courtesy of the so-called Devil King, Oda Nobunaga, and his generals, all who were a bit nutty themselves. When Masamune heard Nobunaga was bumping off head honchos one by one, he couldn't help but pay attention. After a few melees between his men and generals, alongside Shingen's death, Masamune wouldn't stick to the sidelines anymore. "Not that we've much of a choice," He retorted, hitching his legs up on the dashboard. He leaned his seat back to give himself some room, boot prints left on the wood paneling. "With Ieyasu and Tadakatsu feeding the maggots, and what's left of Kenshin on a gurney, he's making quite a stir. If he wants to have some fun before we take his head...then let's party!" // As he caught sight of the city's skyline, he relaxed a little, secure in the fact he would be home soon. The cigarette between his fingers was a pathetic nub now, embers fading quickly. Kojuro took a final inhale before tossing it out the window. He held the taste for as long as he could, smoke wafting out from his lips. Though he was a man of simple tastes, he couldn't help but relish the feeling on his tongue. He tasted like his First. // They had come of their own volition, but it was if the red carpet had been rolled out for him and his men; there was nothing and no one in all the most important of security checkpoints and vantage points. An invitation to a very blatant trap. This was no surprise to Kojuro, who had already devised the plan of attack the moment they had received word of their rival's untimely death. He wouldn't allow them to stroll into the valley of Death itself without a trump card and a Plan B, C, and D, at the very least. The further they delved into the Nobunaga estate, the less men came with them. Kojuro assured his lord that backup (and plenty of distractions) would be necessary. The others were less than pleased, wanting to have some fun themselves. There were the normal complaints, groans, and threats to disobey, but in all their years of serving Masamune, they knew Kojuro could do them no wrong. Date men took their places, leaving the most able to deal with the problem personally. // As the car pulled up to his apartment, he felt his body go slack, his arms folding on the steering wheel. The muscles in his arms and legs throbbed with a dulling ache, and he hesitated, taking a few seconds to relax. His abode was as modest as he was, despite Masamune's prodding and offers for a place more "worthy of an eye of a Dragon". He appreciated the concern, but all he needed (and wanted) was a single bedroom on the second floor. It had all the amenities without the unneeded glamour that the family estates exuded. // If nothing else, Nobunaga was keen on his kingship, his estate boasting egotistical portrait upon portrait, assorted paintings of war-torn landscapes and busts of himself wherever space remained. Though there were no official orders given, Masamune's men would make sure there wasn't much for Oda to gawk at when they made their leave. Masamune stopped his showy trot down the main hall, placing his hand on one of the more ornate sculptures. "The height of hubris," His lord remarked in practiced English, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "But when one's so high up, there's no way to go but down." With the flick of his wrist, the hollowed stone fell with a satisfying crack, and to the hoots and hollers of his men. Kojuro said and showed nothing, his face as stern as ever. Masamune took his non-reaction as a cue to speed things up a little. And that he did, leading them soon after to a large door, which was most certainly Nobunaga's main office. They had not been stopped a single time otherwise, which had made for a pretty boring time. Their best men had begun to grow restless, but there was nothing a little bravado couldn't fix. The One Eyed Dragon took a few steps forward, calling out for the Devil King's surrender. A moment or two passed, his answer given and decision made. He turned to the others, shrugged his shoulders, and with as much force as he could muster, kicked the doorknob straight off. With little ceremony, the door swung open, revealing an equally large office. The details of the place didn't matter so much, with their target standing calmly in the center of the room. // The walk up the stoop seemed to pull whatever energy he had left, reaching the top with the help of the bannister. He tried to remain composed, a hand carding through already-smoothened hair, but it was then, of all times, that his stone resolve flaked and crumbled. With a bit of fumbling, he opened the front door, taking a single step before leaning on the threshold. He turned to look at the starless sky, the cool night air flooding his lungs with each winded gulp he took. Kojuro was no novice, he was in the most shape he could ever be, but as he kept his gaze upwards, he could feel something...unpleasant. The cool air became too much to bear, and with little grace, he bent over and puked. Watery and acrid, he grimaced at the spots he left on the brick steps, spitting the rest of it at the trash cans below. Alongside the blood, he now had his own bile to clean up. Wiping his mouth, he closed the door and made his way upstairs at a more relaxed pace. // As Oda Nobunaga turned to face them, his face was that of serenity, calm, collected, a thin veneer of what hid a hair-trigger. Masamune scoffed and made his way closer, his men surrounding them both. Guns and blades were pointed at him from all angles, and there would be so much to fight through if he wanted to make his escape. Masamune grinned, victory only a shot or two away. "You've been causing us a bit of trouble, eh?" He unsheathed one of the blades from his waist. "The Tiger of Kai, the War God of Echigo, you even took out the marvel Tadakatsu...and poor Ieyasu. Almost tried to take me and my men here in one fell swoop. You've tried to make dogs of us all," His grin warped into a sneer, his taunting devolving into a hiss. "but I'm no bitch, and I won't lie down and die to the likes of you." With a roar, he sped forward, his sword aiming right for the bastard's neck. Just as the sword came down, a chuckle echoed throughout the office, followed by tortured screams behind them. Kojuro glanced back, and saw three of his men step forward, before they fell apart at the waist. Blood stained the pearl tile, and more screams followed. A woman and what looked to be a young boy stepped gingerly past the bodies. The woman turned to a panicked man of Date. She smiled coldly, a gun sliding out from her sleeve as she gestured to him. Three shots fired, and three men went down, each of them gaining a new hole in their skull. Shadows became figures and from them came a hail of gunfire. Glass and stone alike shattered and splintered, upholstery became riddled with holes, shards and scraps and smoke filled the air as men of Date and Nobunaga retaliated. "Imbecile!" The Devil King roared, a cry overpowering gunfire. "You are weak, and the weak are cast into the fires of hell!" He pulled out a sawed off shotgun and fired point blank. Masamune just barely dodged the shells. Oda pulled out another and fired. This time Kojuro's blade stopped them, steel folded thousands of times over slicing through the shells like straw. // Switching on the lights, he walked over to the living room, tossing his keys into a spare ashtray he kept by the couch. He was exhausted, but there was so much he had to do before the night was over. He tossed his things, a duffle bag, and his special sword, by the bedroom door. He wondered if a snack was appropriate, but decided against it, wanting to get out of his dirty clothes as soon as possible. Kojuro hated to be in such disarray, even in the privacy of his own home. // Though they were both taken off-guard, Masamune and Kojuro recovered, quickly getting back into the swing of things. His retainer could feel a second attempt on Oda's head, but before the dragon could act, Kojuro moved closer beside him, his blade up in a defensive position. "My lord, we must take care of the others before you can take his head. There is one still missing in the fray--" Even the mere mention of his missing general was like a call to summon him. Before Kojuro could finish, he felt steel grit upon steel. Akechi Mitsuhide chuckled as they met face to face, a serpent's tongue running across his lips. They had locked blades for only a few seconds, before the reaper's thirst was directed elsewhere. Like a man possessed, he danced through the hail of gunfire, laughing off scratches and scrapes, twirling his strange gaudy weapon around like a baton. His increasingly manic laughter was a sound no one would forget, no matter how long or hard they tried. // He peeled away the layers still intact, folding them neatly beside the tub. Twisting the shower's knob on, he brought the temperature as high as his body could handle. There was no testing as he stepped into near-scalding water, a bar of soap in one hand, and a scouring pad in the other. The mingling blood and gore aside, he felt painfully /unclean/. If he weren't in top shape, he felt he'd shame his First in Command, and that was the last thing he wanted. // Masamune drew all six swords, growing tired of Akechi's theatrics. It wasn't the first he'd seen of his warped balletics, but with his Right Eye now open and alert, it would surely be the last. The dazzling reaper realized the One Eyed Dragon was missing all the fun, and as he cleanly sliced a man in half, he changed direction mid-air, pitching himself forward with a ravenous glee. Kojuro distance himself at his lord's command, keeping his back covered with two watchful eyes. Masamune met the reaper's gaze in kind, a familiar grin plastered on his face. He was excited to finish their business, before he would take his head, and the head of the one he served. Blades were locked immediately, Mitsuhide twirling his scythe around, keeping his prey on the defensive. Masamune wasn't a fan of being toyed with, and with the tip of a hat, and luck on his side, he struck hard with a counter-offensive. Electricity crackled through the air, as unholy steel clanged against pure lightning. Lights popped and exploded, and everything was enveloped in a bright blue light. Nothing could stop a Dragon. // As he stepped out of the bathroom, he carded his wet hair back, keeping the droplets of water from stinging dry, red eyes. Kojuro's bedroom was just as neat and orderly as he'd left it, a silk blue robe greeting him, folded on the bed. Slipping it on, he let out a sigh, stretching sore muscles. He took the robe's spot on the bed, and looked over to the mess he'd left by the door. He never liked bringing work back home. He walked over to the head of the bed, grabbing two pillows. It wasn't much, but it was the least he could do at such short notice. He placed one at the foot of the bed, and the other before on the floor. He hoisted up the duffel bag, and gingerly unzipped it. The smell was almost too much to bear, at first. He kept his nerves still and lifted its contents from the nylon, placing it gently on the first pillow. Blood still leaked and stained. He then moved to kneel on the second pillow, not yet facing the first. Kojuro was never one for outward emotion, as he tended to bottle up anything that might have been a distraction, but as he pulled the blade from its sheath, he began to weep. Kanji engraved years ago glistened from the moonlight. They were a promise of something that now would never be. And it was his fault. As he looked into Date Masamune's cold, glazed eyes, he whispered a million apologies that would never reach him. As he plunged the blade into his stomach, he cried and cried, begging for forgiveness. As he lost feeling and consciousness, he fell forward, the final fleeting thoughts cursing the men who stole his master's life away from him.

Snake let out a groan as she entered her private quarters. It was a long morning, but she managed to cover all of Mother Base for inspection. From sunrise to noonday, she was combing over each of the main plants and centers, making sure everything and everyone was shipshape. She threw herself on the bed with little ceremony, kicking off her boots. While everything was on the up and up, Snake would need to let Kaz know about the many, many orders that had to be put in overseas. She lay back on the musty mattress, placing an arm over her face. Snake only wanted to rest her eyes a bit before lunch, but it was the radio's static that brought her to the waking world. Snake blindly reached over for the radio, her grumbled reply giving Kaz the all clear. "Boss, you got a moment?" "I'm listening." "I know you've been busy with Mother Base's upkeep...but I think you need a little R&R." She murmured in response. "What I /need/ is my sub-commander doing her job." "Hey! I've been doing plenty, just ask around! Besides, you can't blame me for all the work. Surprise inspections were /your/ idea." When she was right, she was right. "...So I'm guessing you have something in mind, Kaz?" "A nice afternoon at the beach is a good start." "Again?" It was a bit too early for sunset watching. "Wear something nice, I'll make it worth your while, don't worry." Snake grunted in response and let Kaz go. She threw the radio on top of a pile of clothes and sat up. Sadly, sleep would have to wait. As she made her way to the showers, giving salutes to the grunts that scurried by, she bumped into Dr. Emmerich, who was much cheerier in comparison. "Hey Boss!" She waved, speeding up to match Snake's pace. "I made some improvements on ZEKE that I think you'd be interested in. Aside from the improved mobility and speed, as well as the weapon capacity and ease of weapon switching, oh and the new alloys we're using to raise  overall efficiency, there's-- hey are you even listening?" Snake groaned and rubbed her temples. "Yeah, yeah, I got it." "Someone forgot her coffee this morning..." "...what the hell does 'wear something nice' even mean? It's a day at the shore, not a night with el presidente." She stopped Snake and laughed, placing a hand on her arm. "Kaz trying to get you to relax again?" Snake grunted in response, rubbing the back of her neck. "'Something nice' is a bathing suit, Boss." "Well I thought--" "I mean you didn't think she meant a tux or anything, right?" Snake groaned and walked away, leaving Dr. Emmerich in a fit of giggles. -- "Oh Boss it looks lovely!" Cecilé exclaimed as Snake turned to look in the mirror. The black and yellow one piece was a tighter fit than she hoped, but as she had nothing else, it would have to do. "Mademoiselle Miller will be so pleased, I'm sure!" "Thanks, Cecilé..." She turned around, and looked at it from the back. It was an old spare that Amanda had left Cecilé, with some adjustments made for Snake. The bands of yellow hugged square shoulders and squeezed the apex of muscular thighs. Snake wasn't one for vanity, but even she had to admit it looked...nice. As she smoothed down the fabric, she glanced at her watch. Kaz's break would start soon, and knowing her, she'd take an early day today. Cecilé, noticing the time, ushered her away from the mirror. "Good luck on your date, Boss!" She handed her a spare towel and with a peck on the cheek, she sent her away. -- "Black was always your color, Snake." Kaz grinned, eying her up and down shamelessly. "Too bad it isn't yours..." She teased, raising an eyebrow to her tight fitting bikini. Sparring wasn't going to be on the list for today, she could tell. -- "Gimme a second, Boss, I'll be right back!" Kaz sprinted off into the distance, going behind a grouping of palm trees. "Close your eye, okay?" She yelled behind the trees. Snake grunted and gritted her teeth as she placed a hand over her good eye. In a few moments, she heard Kaz panting before her. "You can open them now." When she opened her eye, she saw the Love Pack in all of its cardboard glory. It stood taller than she remembered, but the heart on it was as pink as always. Kaz lifted one of the ends and gestured inside. She grinned widely, the sunlight glinting off her sunglasses. "Ladies first."

-- His harsh laughter echoed throughout the courtyard. To rot away until he was Hollow and then rot some more was not the punishment he deserved, but there could be none harsher. Death was not an alternative. There was no ceremony, no judge and executioner. It was the crow who hoisted him up, the crow who tossed him inside. No one was around, yet he felt his legs being thrust forward. He crawled down a decrepit iron ladder, waded through stagnant water,  and passed by those who had long since abandoned their humanity. At the end of the hallway, he brought himself to an open cell. As he stepped inside, he could feel stomping and slamming of something giant and restless. The cell gate closed behind him. He turned around and tested the bars. It was locked. Today began the rest of his life, wasting away until not even fond memories remained. All he could do now was think. He laughed again. He had destroyed and ruined so many, but he had won. The blood of thousands was on his hands, but he felt no less clean. Cipher and Zero were no more. Boss was more powerful than either of them had ever dreamed, and it was all due to him. He had crushed them with a flaming fist, and the demons he summoned erased what remained from existence. It was he who delivered the power  to his commander, giving him an insatiable bloodlust, and the means to quench it. Kaz remembered the screams Zero gave and how Boss tore him to unrecognizable shreds. It warmed what remained of his lifeless heart. What a meager price to pay for revenge.

It was a scout of the West which he found skulking around the camp. Fleet of foot with only a trail of sleeping men behind him. As he brought the westerner to its center, the man's non-lethality came to mind. It seemed like a burden where a simple casualty would suffice. His men surrounded them both, their blades at the ready. "Though impressive, your scouting efforts have done you no favors. Were you to try anything right now, my men would not allow you a single blow." He looked down at the scout who had been forced to his knees. "I will however give you a chance to redeem yourself. Reveal your master's name and purpose, and your death will be quick." The scout kept his gaze level, his hood obscuring all but his lips. He did not speak. "Your death is absolute, it is only a matter of how. Your master's name." From out of his sight, the heel of a weapon brought the westerner to a keel. His only response was an exhale. He took two steps forward, a gloved hand reaching for his chin. He forced his gaze upwards and smiled down at him. "Glutton for punishment." His grip grew tighter and warmer, as his smile lost its charm. "String him up. Let his form be a warning to all others." As the guards lifted him up to be hung, the hooded scout finally spoke. "The master is I." The guards halted. "And my purpose is to find you." "And you have found me. Now that you are satisfied, you can enjoy the buzzards' view." He waved him away, but his men only let go. The man stood tall, thin armor blacker than pitch adorned his form. He let the veil of night obscure most but his face. As the hood was tossed aside, he came to a realization. Big Boss raised his hand. The men around them sheathed their weapons, and moved closer, forming a tight circle around them. With a single gesture, the tide had shifted. Kaz balled his fist tight. Boss had taken a few steps closer. Though obscured by the sleeves of his robes, a powerful flame grew in his hand. As he reached arm's length, his being caught his flame. Kaz brought the fist to his chest and gritted through his teeth. He fell for a trap, but he refused to repeat mistakes. "You'll never take me alive..." He screamed and begged for the End, but it refused to come. Even as the flames within consumed his withered being, the memories came flooding back. From the first night to the last, every moment with Him burned through the senses hotter and hotter. The skin of his hands were ash, yet they could still feel. He could still feel the armor fusing together, the fireball singeing nerves long dead. That was the night of death and rebirth, though not the only one. It was there that they stood, a sea of bodies lapping at their feet. The blood of the East and West, of friend and foe alike coalesced in pools that quenched the landscape. His arms kept the sorcerer steady as they trudged forward, taking no care of the dead around them. Snake was tired, and Kaz even more so, his thinning frame even more gaunt in the moonlight. They was neither victory nor loss. This was only the beginning, a warning from a powerful lord. Though all was quiet on the battlefield, another army would take their place. All they could do was retreat into the shadows, and regroup. The flames were not the only thing that craved him. As His demon form, somehow matching him, phased from the darkness. It took hold of his withered frame, and with unholy blades for teeth, it plunged into the skin of his neck. As it bit into flesh, it wasn't venom coursing through his veins. It was something much more maddening. Kaz knew what he felt deep within, and he hated himself for it. Love and lust of eons past flooded his senses. Pain and pleasure became one and the same. Hands reached up, blindly begging for His touch. They were met in kind, as rough fingers laced with his. There was no longer a vicious serpent-hound bearing down upon him. It was his confidant, his commander, his lover, his Boss. Now bone, not obsidian, pierced his skin and brought blood to light. Though now human, He still indulged in the drops of blood on Kaz's neck. Each dry kiss drove him mad, each quick lap of the tongue torture. Though Undead, he was no stranger to carnal delights. Even as his memories bled away, those nights long ago, nights of His indulgence surfaced. When he awoke, he found himself elsewhere, inside, hidden away from the men that came for their heads. He sat up, looking around for the man that brought him here. "Snake...?" He whispered, his bandaged hands grazing the ones wrapped tight around his chest. The only light that guided him were the slivers of moonlight that peeked from cracks in the wall. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw nothing but stone walls, with a single doorway as an exit, though it was boarded up firmly at the moment. It was no castle or keep, but it would have to do. His hands moved to push him from his spot on the floor, but his strength was no more. He fell back onto the mat, winded. A dull pain radiated through his body, and his fingers tingled. Kaz felt he slept for ages, but was no more refreshed. "Snake...?" He mumbled, wondering where his commander had gone. The last he saw of him, was when his arms kept the other steady as they escaped from Zero. It was close, but they had managed, and then he fell.  Kaz waited for what seemed like hours, and when he couldn't anymore, he began to let his exhaustion overtake him. "Kaz." His eyes shot open. A gruff voice thrust him back awake. The moonlight seemed to be much brighter now, as the splinters of light revealed Snake's form, now knelt by his side. Bandages obscured the eye that never was, and wrapped around his arms and neck. Neither of them left the last fight unscathed. "You're alive." The sigh of relief was unmasked. "I could say the same to you." His hand reaching out to inspect one of the other's. What went unnoticed to Kaz suddenly came to light. The bandages were unclean, blood staining them a rich brown, making them crusty and harder to move against. Before Kaz could react, Boss had left his hand up, and returned with more. "What about you?" He gently tugged his hand away, pointing at strips that would barely hold on. Boss grunted in response, taking a hold once more. "It can wait, these can't. Flames tend to burn even if they're yours." Strictly business as always. It was always  expected, but he couldn't help but sneer. "I can wear gauntlets if need be. You're little else without a neck." With his other hand, he reached over, pulling the loose bandages taut. They wouldn't stay no matter how much he tried. Instead of swatting away the troubling hand, he plucked it away, silently asking for his obedience. Kaz took away the bandages and began the process himself, peeling away caked cloth gently. "Hurt I may be, but I'm no child." His tone came across as petulant despite himself. Boss managed a chuckle, shrugging. "Then I should expect you on the battlefield in no time." "I'm no child, but I'm still a being of flesh. Give me time to heal." With the left hand covered sufficiently (no small task, considering the pain and cleaning it took), he began on the right. "Time is what I need to return at my peak." "Time is what we've not enough, despite letting you rest." He growled in frustration, though it was undirected at the sorcerer. It did not make him feel any better about the situation, regardless. They remained in silence a while after, Kaz now completely covered in fresh and clean cloth. His gaze moved to the light peering into the room and he sighed, his own condition weighing heavily on the mind. "How long was I out?" "A fortnight, or so." The words made his stomach churn. So long without waking, so many sunrises where he burdened the other by doing nothing at all. "How have you kept us hidden so long?" Boss only smiled, somewhat crooked with scars and wan light. The restlessness only grew, Kaz wanting to make up for lost time. There wasn't much he could do in his condition, however. His energy had a ways to return to normal, and he'd rather not draw any outside attention. His hands, now clean, returned to the remnants of bandages on his commander's neck. "Those bastards may never catch you, but a simple infection just might." Boss clicked his tongue, but didn't shy away from his hands this time. Kaz unceremoniously peeled away his underclothes, silently amazed at the extent of his wounds. Dried and crusted blood seemed to be everywhere, the strips of cloth doing nothing to contain it. It was his turn to click his tongue as he saw how sloppy a job it had been. Not that he could blame him. The trail of wounds carried his eyes downward, stopping just at his waist. Hidden behind more underclothes, he could see more uncovered wounds peek out. He kept his hands hovering around his collar. "Is your entire body covered...?" Another grunt in response. Kaz sighed, his hands starting from the top. He was as gentle but firm, treating the worst with whatever herbs he had left, and cleansing what remained in the manner he did himself. It took him more than he had to keep from staring too long. He had seen him in such a state from a distance of course, but there was always some distance. It was no surprise that his commander was strong, with an inspiring form, but as he treated him, tending to his wounds, it felt...intimate. With his upper body cleaned, Boss was satisfied, and began to pull away, before Kaz spoke. "Not yet." He chided in Eastern tongue. Fingertips gently tugged the rest of his garments down, Kaz keeping more of a distance. Where the bandages ceased, spots of dried blood took over. They went past his navel and curled around his upper thighs. Kaz couldn't imagine what the other went through to bring them both safety, albeit temporary. The lower his hands strayed, the more gentle he became, until he didn't touch his skin unless absolutely necessary. It wasn't long until the job was done, and they both let out a sigh, one of relief, the other of exhaustion. Kaz lay back on his makeshift bed, closing his eyes, and leaving Boss to fix himself. He heard a bit of shuffling, and suddenly his presence became a lot more apparent. When he opened his eyes, Boss was sitting between legs parted unconsciously. "I've no other injuries." He blurted out. "With such power, I never expected hands that conjure destruction to be so...gentle." He appreciated the compliment, something usually given post-fight, but he could feel an undercurrent of a different meaning. He couldn't help but jump as heavy hands palmed his knees. Kaz didn't know whether to wave away his very obvious advances, or to indulge them. A prideful grin was obscured by darkness. "Direct with orders, but little else, hm?" It had been a while since they had a time to relax properly. There wasn't much of it left, but it was enough. Being playful was a luxury now, not a given. "You're keen enough, Kaz." He could hear the grin as he spoke. A shiver ran down his spine, and he sat up better to face his commander better. "What else am I?" He teased, wanting to indulge his ego before anything else. Boss took no more time playing coy, as he leaned just enough to graze the other's lips. His answer would come a bit after a powerful kiss, tainted slightly by the taste of nature. Not that he would savor it, as Boss trailed down from cracked  lips. Teeth and tongue alike sampled his jawline, before delving lower. Kaz craned his neck back, giving the other more to explore. Before continuing his journey down, he grazed up until lips touched earlobe. He gave one deep sigh of pleasure before whispering. "Mine." The richness of his voice and cadence crumbled the foundations of his damned soul, and in the same breath, built anew. Hands worked where his mouth couldn't, fingertips streaking up and down his chest, before palms pressed against worn muscle. Kaz felt the tension and worry bleed away as his commander became the only focus. The sorcerer moved bandaged fingers down Boss's back, snagging once or twice on strips of cloth, but reaching his lower back somewhat comfortably. Boss purred in response, a simple movement urging his descent faster. Lips moved down where his fingers had coasted before, his forehead nudging the other. Kaz leaned back at the cue, but kept his eyes on his Boss. He made no delay in reaching the navel, his cheek brushing against blonde hair. Kaz knew not of how much heat burned between his commander's legs, but between his own revealed his enjoyment. Boss gave a smirk against thin undergarments, before he tugged them more firmly than Kaz had done. The cold air did him many favors, as warm skin tingled, now exposed. It was then a flush of embarrassment came across, barely visible. Kaz reached down, possibly to obscure his shame, but Boss had beaten him to it, with a firm grip. The sorcerer gasped in equal parts surprise and pleasure. Though his instinct was to buck forward, he remained still, awaiting his Boss's next move. The hand relaxed, moving up and down as the other flicked sensitive skin. He closed his eyes, floating in the waves of pleasure and sparks of pain. The real pain wouldn't begin until something slipped inside him, moistened and thick. As his commander's slowly slid his fingers in, his body reacted strongly, his body arching in a shock of splintering pain, at first. As his body relaxed, it dulled, a new sensation taking its place. His fingers worked him, molded him until he was ready. And when he was finally ready, his knees were spread further, his fingers pulling away for something more. The rhythm was slow, tauntingly so. Fire consumed his being and he so desperately needed Him to smother it. Strong arms wrapped around his withered hollow frame, keeping him under His control. This would go His way, or not at all. Were he fit to fight back, he would try and shatter Him into pieces. Instead, he obeyed the power of His embrace. Just like old times... There were no hidden thoughts in this realm, He was the Beginning and the End, and He knew Kaz more than Kaz knew himself. His desires and needs known before his mind could voice them. He kept the sorcerer pinned, but with abandon, he worked the most delicate parts of him until there was pain, which became pleasure, then pain again. It was a never-ending cycle that he could never grow numb to. His mortal body gone, and along with it, its restrictions and limits and boundaries. He would unravel his very soul only to wind it up again, cruelty at its finest, if Kaz hadn't enjoyed it. Eons felt as if they had passed when he finally spoke. "Please...please..." He rasped, nails digging into His wrists. "Release me..." He prayed to the lords of old. "If there is any mercy, please." His lips forced Kaz's silence as He wrapped a hand tighter around him. He would not get a single moment's respite until He was sated. "Atone for your sins, for only I can grant you peace." As he spoke, he felt the words slither into his very being. Kaz knew there would be no peace, only pain. There was no difference to him, as he tried to buck his hips up. "Boss...Snake...Snake please...!" All it would take was a single gesture, and he would become undone. He spoke again, the words unchanged. Kaz was not a pure man, his time in the Asylum proved as much, but this was not a time to recount his failings. Though he felt consumed by his selfish lust, a sin in of itself, the words came out without thought. "Snake...please forgive me. " he groaned as the warmth grew below. "It was I...I who created you." The memories flooded back, creating a pool of muddied regrets. Though they were flesh and blood once, it was Kaz who created the beast who asked his obedience. "It was I who fed you to the abyss, please forgive me...!" Kaz felt pressure building as His hands resumed their movement. As His grip relented, he was given slightly more freedom, his body moving upward to match his strokes. It was a display of shameless desperation, and he took in every minute of it. As his hips bucked, the grip tightened slightly, a tendril from nowhere carefully teasing the very end of himself. It wouldn't be long until it was over. A fullness that he missed so dearly returned, indulging the spots of pleasure He purposefully neglected. With his plea for repentance absolute, He had no more need of him. Kaz was frozen by unseen grips, the fullness digging deeper, with phantom hands and tendrils working from the outside. Pleasure bordering on the insane. As slowly as He reappeared, He quickly left his sight, a toothy grin branding what remained of his mind. His shadows that remained danced around him, binding his arms and legs. His former resistance was gone, his desires at their climax. His body arched in the void. Whispers, words, sensations, and all flooded through him. His release consumed the senses. The shadows in turn pulled him in. There was no love as He devoured him whole.

A single palette of color flooded his view with blues and purples, colors as cold as the emptiness which held him. With each step he took, the ground which he stood on seemed to disappear behind him, stone crumbling and taking a dive to the endlessness beneath. He did not hurry, and he did not look back. It would do him no good to do so. All he could do (and would do regardless) was trek forward with a slow pace, eyes focused on the mass before him. Though the Void around him held none of the islands with fragments of Dunwall, with exception of his narrow walkway, tendrils from seemingly nowhere crept to the horizon. They writhed, they entwined, and any other man would say they were snakes of tar and vines of obsidian. In the mess of limbs, something still leaked from the holes and gaps, a vapor of violet. Never before in his visits to the Void had he seen such a view. Even in its previous chaos, there was a paradoxical order, or at least an order familiar only to the Outsider. The clops of his boots on the phantom cobblestone echoed, no matter his speed. He was desperate to get there but he didn't know why, only that he felt compelled. The closer he came, the more he needed it. He needed to feel those tendrils on his skin, and prayed to no god in particular that they were as numbing and enveloping as the Outsider's. He needed to be swallowed by the writhing mass. He begged for the ghosts of a shattered reality to fill his lungs and bite away with its unrelenting chill. Whatever questions he had fell into the abyss. This was his punishment. Selfishness was his sin. In the waking world, dark eyes kept watch of the resting Lord Protector. Even when his own mortal form necessitated some form of rest, the Outsider would spend his nights watching his partner. It was a habit he gained soon after sharing a bed with the all-too eager assassin. Many nights, Corvo would be too exhausted to properly dream, leaving nothing but a stern expression. The nights that brought nightmares would force his body to tense, though his face would reveal no more, an eerie serenity instead. Tonight was different entirely. The crease of his brow deepened,  former serenity becoming overbearing stress. A mouth that was normally shut just barely revealed teeth gnashed together. Some of the tendrils moved away, reaching for Corvo instead. As the tips licked at his coat, he could feel himself burn with every touch. The void didn't discern skin from not, and its touch could shatter the strongest steel with a graze. It was a chill he was long accustomed to. When they had their fill of teasing, they gently wrapped around his fingers, pulling his arm up and forward, as if to lead him. A giddiness filled him inside, the apparent threat of his own demise the catalyst. He tried his best to match their tugs, but again he lagged behind. The vines were more insistent, some more pulling from the center to coil around his waist and thighs. Soon, with each biting limb, his steps were no longer his own. Sooner after that, he was almost reaching distance of the center of chaos on the horizon. It was there he was greeted with the face of a form all too familiar. Eyes of shadow enveloped in shadow, skin as pale and cold as snow, all chiseled from granite. But it was just his face. As he looked closer, he could see features flicker in and out of existence. For a moment, he was given freedom of movement. He threw himself forward, arm outstretched, fingers tensing up. The most he could manage before the vines returned their painful grip on him was his fingertips caressing a cheek that disappeared by touch. Tendrils appeared from all sides, wrapping around parts untouched, arms, legs, neck, hands, fingers, constricting. The violet fog slithered through his orifices, clouding his vision and choking what the vines couldn't. In the last instant, the fractured face of the omnipotent whale god came closer, eyes dulling, facade cracking and crumbling. With lips parted, it kissed lips forced open and kissed tears from burning cheeks. It was the Void at the peak of its demise that swallowed him, body and soul. A hand shot out blindly, grasping the sheets, clawing where it felt nothing, desperately looking for something. A pained look spread across his features like hellfire, with eyes clenched tight and jaw clenched even tighter. Even with his powers stripped away, the Outsider knew he was awake. Slender hands clasped shaking ones, bringing them together. Sitting up, he took the normal spot  by his side, curious. The sudden warmth brought him back, coughing and sweating with eyes bleary and red. The Outsider made no other movements and no sounds, continuing to watch Corvo's ascent to consciousness. Which for Corvo was confusing and surreal, still feeling the faintest traces of a threatened non-existence by the Void. Blue and violet, he could have sworn, tinted the edged of his vision. "I'm sorry..." He muttered, realization and regret bubbled up in his chest at once. The Outsider continued to look through stark bottomless eyes, looking no more concerned than usual. Corvo refused to meet his gaze, afraid that through terrified eyes, the other could discern /why/ he was apologizing. Of course, the other made no indication that he understood. If he chalked this up to just mindless drivel humans spewed, then it would be all the better. If he knew what the other saw, all Corvo's efforts would be for naught. He was witness to reality coming apart at the very seams, and had been rightfully destroyed alongside it. Whether this was the Void sending a warning about trying to keep the Outsider for himself, or his own wicked mind chastising him for his idiocy he wasn't sure. His grip grew tighter on pale fingers and he smiled. The tinge of the Void left and he smiled, the crushing realization sat upon his chest and he smiled. It'd do them no good if he spent what could be their final days in mourning.