The Fog of War

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            Kyn froze in the midst of the devastation. His ears rang with the force of the explosion. Blood and viscera were scattered everywhere, the smell of burning flesh ever prevalent. Why? Why was this always happening?

Why couldn't they win!? WHY!?

It felt like every single fucking time they fought with all their hearts, they were pushed back into the dirt. First, it was at Washington D.C., where over twenty-five-thousand people had been brutally slaughtered; Then it was Seattle, where yet again he'd seen mothers and fathers, women and children, all splattered on the fucking concrete!

His chest heaved with incessant breaths. Eyes burned by the image before him.

Kaliko stood over the dead princess. Smiling that insane smile, her foot propped on her prey like she was some poacher proud of her kill. Theseah lay on the ground behind her, unable to move, pinned by Kaliko's chilling power.

Kyn looked into Theseah's eyes and knew her pain, more than any could.

We failed. We failed again.

His fingers screamed when he gripped the hilt of his blade.

"I told you Kyn...there is no saving him...none of them. Godkin, they are imperfect. Humans even more so. They exist in an endless cycle of consumption, hungering for the things they don't have."

You know...you're right, Rakshasa. So, why don't you sound happy?

"You think this makes me happy? I am The Bane of Death and Destruction. That does not mean I relish death. In truth I despise it. I envy my brother, who is responsible for walking the blessed to the gates of Eloe, where they may see their families and live in peace for all eternity. I've been doomed to an endless pain wherein I must drag the fearful to their hells. Only a select few have I guided to Elysium."

Hmph...

Kyn dragged his eyes to his brother. The brother he'd been chasing for so long. Only now, after everything that happened, it seemed fruitless. He knew it wasn't. Knew that stopping him was the right thing to do.

"Black! Get in here!" Athena shouted.

"You won't stop me!" Adastros sounded more like a demon than anything. The black armor had come to encapsulate the whole of his body, save his right eye. He looked almost petrified, a statue of opaque stone, teeth sharp and black as night. His left eye was of the deepest of crimsons, and curled horns, rough looking as tree roots sprouted from his forehead, one shorter than the other. He stumbled around, eyes unable to focus, mind fogged by the blackness.

My—my brother...turned into that!?

"My father."

What?

"That is the power of my father. Karyon. King of Hell. King of Demons. He is the one who has done this. The one I seek to kill. Do you still want to kill your brother?"

I-I don't know. Is this him? Did he want all of this, or is it your father?

"It's too late to tell. Simple truth is that my father fooled your brother. He believed wholeheartedly that that demon would help them. Or maybe he thought he could fight Karyon for control and win in the end. He was sorely wrong. I say again, do you want to save him?"

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