always prepared

Deimos He knew the weight of the question, held it by the brawn on his shoulders, the straight, taut, rigid contortions of his spine, the noose on his neck, the anvil on his skull. It bore a tremendous, overwhelming hold, for all the soulless things it represented, for all the protective elements it could’ve provided. The inquiry was no small task, and so he lifted his eyes away from her as she processed, carefully took it all apart, carefully delving into the intricacies of the matter. It was no small feat for anyone to ponder, and he gave her all the time she required, still in the silence, eyes scanning, roaming, lantern lights and the movement of others around them. Her conclusion was justified, and he nodded, pausing to bear her decision. The monsters of LongNight had been the core of the door’s creation, why he’d sought it all out in the first place, why he’d thought to ask a herald if there was anything to be done. While the end results hadn’t been what he was aiming for, not by any stretch of the imagination, it could still prove useful when the evening swelled once more, and the demons came out of their shells, their vessels, their hollowed, hidden worlds. “A time limit,” he justified her answer – segmenting it into the design of scarcity – if nothing else erupted between now and then. “Thank you.” Wise words from the young but experienced. Then the monolith maneuvered again, motion in the wake of restlessness, another investigation summoned to the brink of his mind, circulating information, wondering if everyone in their sanction had been afforded the plots and schemes, if it was only hearsay and rumors, or if there was something more etched in stone. “Have you heard of any future plans to destroy the monsters?” Out of sight and out of mind Make everything alright So let the sky and sea collide Just not in our lifetime