[Mini Event] To See and Pray [OPEN TO ALL]

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame What do all of you want echoed back in silent refrains; he didn’t know how to answer from his own perspective, and no one else seemed to have suggestions either. In the end, it didn’t matter though. The Spire Monster fell, plumes and rings of devastation and destruction, and he was finally absorbed by the bedlam down below again. The announcement, thereafter, was not a surprise, but a piece of the inevitable; death to one of their own, broken apart by the fiend’s last outcry. His eyes stared over the abyss, narrowed, piercing, puncturing, a witness and nothing more, and perhaps that stung the most – that naught he did truly impacted anything, and down there, a Pyrrhic victory snapped at the seams. Is that what you wish? shuffled through his mind, and he clenched his jaw. He’d had enough of them to last a thousand lifetimes – battles waged and won, but friends utterly destroyed, wars unfurled and unleashed, but no great, grand glory after the final campaign. The Reaper was just as lost as the rest of them, momentarily stunned by death and its finality; the way it erupted and occurred in such at such a drop of a hat, indifferent to who and what and why. It came and came and came with the restless god’s iniquities and proclamations; he didn’t even bother glancing its way. Deimos was no Reaper here; the scythe was extended through another’s hands. Despite what anyone craved, yearned, or longed for in these feats, the lines had been drawn either way, and he didn’t know where he stood. He fell back into silence: commonplace and familiar. master of nothing place of recoil and grace