the wounds are open and bleeding out
It’s over and it’s dark, and there’s a rage in Ronin like fire on his skin, like iron in his bones, and it tastes like blasphemy.
His head hurts - there’s a pressure there, like something crushing his skull, and his mouth is dry. Before him stands the Temple, a place where he has shed tears and shared hopes.
A place of faith, a place of peace.
Oh, and how it all falls down.
The light that shines from Ronin is harsh, uneven, coming in bursts and waves that nonetheless identify him to all who draw close. So there’s no denying it, then, as he lifts his hand - a hand ablaze with a bolt of starlight - and hurls it at the Temple. Wood cracks. Glass smashes. He readies another bolt.
Sanctuary be damned. All of you be damned.
Ronin has seen the truth of Caido, and it can all go ahead and burn.
His head hurts - there’s a pressure there, like something crushing his skull, and his mouth is dry. Before him stands the Temple, a place where he has shed tears and shared hopes.
A place of faith, a place of peace.
Oh, and how it all falls down.
The light that shines from Ronin is harsh, uneven, coming in bursts and waves that nonetheless identify him to all who draw close. So there’s no denying it, then, as he lifts his hand - a hand ablaze with a bolt of starlight - and hurls it at the Temple. Wood cracks. Glass smashes. He readies another bolt.
Sanctuary be damned. All of you be damned.
Ronin has seen the truth of Caido, and it can all go ahead and burn.
THE
DARK STAR
