[SWE] imminent

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Each night seemed to become later, as plans and machinations and calculations drifted into evenings. Patrols shifted to eternal, watchful hours, soldiers rotating in and out at various intervals, training and brawling committed upon frequent and necessary notions. These were things Deimos understood – strength, fortitude, endurance, determination – and instantly flickered back to them out of habit, while the rest of their plans waited until the arrival of a new season. The uncertainty weighed and lacked balance; and he’d find his mind drifting to other leagues and measures of protection, jotting them down within notebooks and parchment, bringing them home to peruse until exhaustion seemed imminent – or until Evie took the healthier route and ensured neither succumbed. So his head wasn’t bowed as he walked out of the barracks, sight steady on the roads of the Citadel, along stony pathways and Halo routes, Belial following above, Zuriel hanging back. More logical suppositions were tucked in his pockets or folded into his bag, and the journey home wouldn’t take any time at all – But he paused and ceased entirely, in the middle of the street, when he saw the secondary moon. Spine straightened, his gaze narrowed, and the trepidation began all over again. Because maybe he’d only dreamed of more, ample time before calamity and chaos, and Safrin had merely ensured them that it was all up. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace