[SE] For all of us

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Try as he might to have avoided and skulked and hid amidst shadows, it scarcely seemed to matter. Deimos was there when it was necessary for his home, his family, his region, his people, and then extended to Caido at large, and sometimes it was difficult to comprehend where he’d been at the beginning – from being pulled into the Grounds, behind barriers and ignorant of this world, to now, where he stood tall amongst other giants, carving their wake into the earth. It hadn’t been anything he’d wanted for himself – he would’ve been more inclined to disappear into the ether on more than one occasion – but there he was just the same, resculpted and renewed, every scar and every line a story of where he’d either triumphed or failed. The question sat there though, as he glanced from the sky and back to Marcus with a subtle arch to his brow. Half of him wondered if the youth was merely prying, wanting those infamous stories spelled out. If Noah or Cordelia had kept those from him, and understandably so; the Sword had yet to ever outline those harsh days to Erebos either. Ignorance was bliss in that regard, bu Marcus was older now, and so Deimos snorted, nose wrinkling a bit as he witnessed Belial turn and spiral downwards, before scaling back to new heights. “No. Not even close.” Under threat of being consumed might have sounded barbaric, and probably had been at the time, but the ‘worst’ was often labeled for the events that caused un-ending grief and desolation. “That is probably reserved for the days of LongNight, when we were all behind the barrier.” War was war – devastating as it could be, but something easily quantified and known. LongNight had been a test, a push, a pull, a lure for all of them, and they’d been dragged into committing horrendous acts for the sake of, what they believed, was safety. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace