into the endlessness

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame He didn’t bother muffling the laugh prompted by Ronin’s offer, granting another nod as he curled some flames closer to edges. “Of course.” As for Noah and Cordelia’s children, the Sword granted a nod. “They do. Sounded like they wanted more.” He shrugged, unsurprised by the preferences, figuring the Olsons would eventually pervade through Halo in some facets. Deimos didn’t expect the sudden course of nostalgia from Remi, but tilted his head and directed his attention upon the man just the same. If anything, the Sword felt more immersed in day to day lives, but perhaps it had come with leadership roles and responsibilities; always an individual wearing to bear the brunt of multiple weights. The early days had been different though, in a way that they were all clustered together in the madness, rather than spread apart, each trying to do their own thing in larger expansions and doses. “In the Grounds, everything seemed quick and sudden. There was always something to be shared, discovered, and experienced.” Partially due to the multitudes of Outlanders, and the barrier – before its collapse, they’d had no choice but to forge along together. “Maybe because we did not have much of a choice?” He gave half a smile, before glancing back into the fire. Between LongNights, restless days amidst the Spire, rulers, discovering and fighting blights, monsters, and the platitude of mayhem, lands suddenly unfurling, the reach of gods and goddesses – and they’d changed, altered, right alongside, for otherwise they would have faltered amidst the many. He cast an inquiry to both thereafter. “Which do you prefer?” The lives they had now, apart and away, or coiled amidst other lands, steeled with brethren? master of nothing place; of recoil and grace