The Battle of Five Bloods

"What... what is this?"

You lay suspended in pure darkness, numb, cold and sticky wet. It was as if you had fallen into a well, paralyzed, unable to see anything but the light from above. Although from this dark tunnel of self, you were completely petrified, you saw from that light above the image: as if looking out of your own eyes.

The same picture lay before you, the mansion, the fighting, the starry sky... and yet, somehow you knew it was not you who was looking.

YES.... AT LAST.

You felt your fingers try to flex, although it seemed that something prevented them from doing so.

You watched your own body, slowly sit up and stagger up on your feet. This presence, this Thing which puppeted you, it was everything you feared it would be... it wasn't anger, or wrath or even the Beast. It was pure Frenzy.

The dripping voice of your Frenzied Beast was louder and more dominant than even your thoughts. It howled with laughter as it swayed, like an infant, still unsure on how to walk.

The Thing that held your body up, looked down first to your slit belly, where your guts hung down, exposed to the air. Everything was so quiet, so meaningless, everything was numb.

Then, the thing which held up your body looked to your one left hand, and gripped tightly there was a Blade.

You knew this blade, it was the Tachi which you had found in your kitchen, the samurai blade, white and red and intricate. The same you had hidden in the guitar case, the one Pops warned you off of.

The Akuma Muramasa.

Curiously, it seemed much different than before. If you had to put it into words it would have been... dormant, before. Now its curved intricate blade was drawn from the white scabbard, the steel was a gleaming blood red; a fine razor. The Handle pulsed, as needle-like spikes had erupted from the Tsuka: the blade's white-wrapped handle, which pierced into your hand, preventing the Thing which held you from even letting it go.

"What in the god damn!?" The voice echoed from far away, but you knew it at once. The Thing did not look up, but without a doubt, Lady Morrigan was clearly shocked that you were somehow upright.

Something was terribly wrong, this wasn't like the other times that you had died. It wasn't you at the helm anymore. You felt a cold, cruel sensation overwhelm you. It was a hungering, starving, mindless thing which piloted you now... and all of this malice, all of this strange nigh on demonic power, oozed from the Sword which impaled itself in your hand.

"Quickly, take him down!" Another voice echoed through a Silver Helm.

One of the crusaders rushed towards you, the silver sword held aloft. The Blade was thrust clean through your chest.

Planted deep within you, the Crusader huffed in what seemed to be quiet relief.

But the Thing which held you up, lifted your head and turned your eyes to look at the attacker. He gasped, but it was done before even you could properly witness.

The Crimson Blade was suddenly wedged deep into his torso. Faster than even the sound of his squelching flesh, it had passed through silver, steel, leather and flesh like butter, snagged only by the bones of his ribs.

You felt your teeth bared in a chimpanzee-like grin as the Thing wrenched the Crimson Blade across, tearing the top half of the crusader away. The Blood which followed was a waterfall, it stained your face, your hair, your entire body... and the Scarlet Sword bound to your hand.

It... it shimmered against your fingers, pulsing with life and hunger. The Blood which coated its blade seeped into the steel as it drank it in, only once every drop was devoured by this blade, did an unnatural jolt pass through you.

The purest well of supernatural vigor began to fill your stomach as if you had drank the man to the last drop.

As the Thing gazed up, still smiling dementedly, the Blade pulsed harder like a thumping heartbeat. Its hunger had only grown. It wanted more, it needed more.

"You... You can't... You can't take control, I... I had you on a tight leash." You thought, the real you, buried at the bottom of the well.

Your lips moved but it was not you that spoke: "I don't need you anymore, Lover-Boy. There is no leash on me."

"Master?"

The battlefield had seemingly paused at the grotesque sight of you. Even the Werewolves had halted to stare at the crimson drenched figure and the hungry crimson blade in his hand.

The Noxium looked at you like some kind of alien, hesitant to even draw near as an aura of pure unadulterated malice and hunger spilled from your every pore.

"You just don't know when to give up, do ya? -!" Seorsia growled but then paused as something else began.

Slowly, your lacerated small intestine, laid bare and spilled, began to slither back up. It crawled as if alive back into the confines of your stomach. The viscera, the shredded skin sealed shut along with all the wounds you'd sustained in battle. The Blood boiled inside of you so deep that you felt it churn even at the bottom of the well.

As all of your injuries faded away, a pressure began to build in the air. Dotted about the ruins of your home, were the bits and pieces of the Black Drake Mansion. The wooden joists, the dry wall, even the ancient foundations began to glow with scarlet runes. One by one as if possessed, the scattered fragments of the Mansion floated., defying gravity and with a terrifying purpose they flew backwards towards their points of origin.

In a great burst of debris, the Mansion itself began to piece... back together, its broken walls and shattered windows reforming in a fantasia of scarlet and crackling energy, the same energy produced by a Blood Rune.

The flames which consumed the house, sizzled out, the cracks resealed, the dust re-atomized and within less than a minute, the entire structure was made whole again.

Black Drake Mansion was restored, just as your flesh had been.

The chime of Rudy could be heard “HAHA, I KNEW IT WOULD WORK!”

The battlefield shimmered under the Thing’s oppressing, blank gaze. Lady Morrigan was the only one who stepped forward “...So you can regenerate…” She stopped in her tracks, the little hairs on her neck stood up on end. The Aura of Malice never stopped growing, bulging, engorging and pulsing with desperation, a desperation to kill and eat.

A bullet suddenly whizzed past your head, striking one of the werewolves in the side. Another Gun shot blew out a crusader’s back.

The window shutters of the mansion had flown open, and peaking out from each and every one; a gun barrel, aimed and ready with none other than Cleo’s Butlers taking aim.

“Next time you’re gonna regenerate an entire mansion on top of our heads bloody warn us first!” Cleo’s voice cried.

It seemed as if the battle were ready to resume, the wolves snarling, the crusaders regrouping. The Leprechaun had slid in at Lady Morrigan’s side, on the other, Dagda dragged himself on his knees trying to buff out the dented cauldron on his head.

The Noxium flashed behind you, reforming at the Mansion’s face… but kept their distance from the thing which held you up.

“COMBUSTUS!”

The Western Exterior Wall, adjacent to the mansion’s porch exploded violently. Stepping from the newly created breach, came the half-dozen singed robed figures, wands brandished, staggered by tightly gathered and elegant even half burned as they were.

The Witches surged from the darkness, joining the fray, making all who witnessed them back off.

Everyone stood waiting eagerly in the quiet wind.

Five Factions, Five Bloods.

The Wolves snarled lowly in their dense pack, unfettered even without their Alpha. The Crusaders replenished their fallen ranks with the snap of brambled flesh, Lacrimosa and Requiem at their head. Regina in her charred white robes and all the others of her kind flickered their wands in all directions, clearly out of their element in a Mexican standoff of this measure. Lady Morrigan was fixed on the Thing which held you up, a mixture of apprehension and eagerness in her stance with her brethren who regenerated their wounds.

The Noxium held strong behind the Thing that wore your flesh, clearly bolstered by their home's sudden restoration. But all were exposed to the full **** of whatever strange power had possessed your body, filling them with an existential terror.

The Frenzied Beast which was once you, drenched and dripping in Crusader Blood, one arm missing, the other gripping the otherworldly sword… it’s eyes began to gush red as a deafening inhuman screech erupted from your lips.

Neck cracking unnaturally as it slumped down into an unsteady crouch, its jaws extended with monstrous fangs as it leapt into a deadly sprint towards the Moores.

The world almost shook as everything collapsed inward. Crusaders flooded in a wave of silver blades and bullets. The Lycanthropic wall of claws and furred flesh crushed all in its path. The Witches’ screams of verbs gave life to their dark magic which tore through the earth and bodies of all it touched. And the Noxium followed close behind the beastly Thing which yowled as it closed the distance between It and Morrigan.

Dagda and Angus the Leprechaun threw themselves between the Thing and their Mistress. The Huge Vampire’s shoulder thrust to body the Thing into oblivion, while Angus clearly meant to cut it to pieces.

The Thing, rippling with muscle, smashed itself into Dagda, it was a wrecking ball… an unstoppable ****. The weight of it was so wild that Dagda was flung like a bowling ball, smashing into a group of battling Crusaders.

Angus with razor claws sliced at the Thing’s throat, making a fountain of your blood spill down its neck. But the Frenzy’s teeth only grinded together harder in a manic expression of insane joy.

The Scarlet Blade whizzed through Angus’ left arm, severing flesh and bone sending his forearm tumbling to the ground. “FAAAAAAAK WHAT IS IT WITH YOU AND FUCKING AR-”

Your heel sank deep into the soft flesh of Angus’ abdomen, the Thing groaned with pleasure as fragments of his spine exploded out.

Galloping like a rabid horse, dragging the crimson blade behind it, the Thing flew at the Morrigan who stood arms crossed, waiting.

The curved point of the Tachi stabbed at Seorsia, but like snatching a fly from the air, her fingers curled around the flesh of your wrist. With the index and thumb alone she exerted such **** that it completely crushed your arm as she pulled your body up, as if to slam it into oblivion.

But the Thing did not stop. In a most abominable motion it whipped your flesh around in a spiral, making the flesh and bone of your good arm twist and crack. Your legs wrapped around Lady Morrigan’s neck, the hold was just as tight as hers was on your wrist.

The Monstrous Thing screamed as it pushed and pushed, trying to **** the tip of the sword into her face.

Seorsia grunted, taken aback by the tremendous strength of this creature that her adversary had become.

With her free arm she smashed a fist into the Thing’s jaw, making it careen off into the shingling.

She shook as a chill ran down her spine, rubbing her neck. But failed to realise her mistake. The Thing had been tossed back towards the driveway… where Your severed arm had been laying.

The Frenzied Beast growled and grunted as it mashed its torso into the severed arm. And the bleeding flesh began to meld and twist, the tendons and muscle fibers combining seamlessly.

The once severed arm, a tense instrument of hard veins and bulging muscle clenched and spasmed.

“Shit.” Lady Morrigan said. Suddenly she was greatly disturbed as a huge claw flew at her. The werewolves' paw just before it reached her was smashed by a silver shield. Requiem jumped on the humungous wolf, wrapping his silver mailed arms around its neck and riding it as it flailed and spun, unloading as many bullets in it as he could.

“IGNORE THE SPARES. COMPLETE THE MISSION!!” He roared.

The Crusaders quickly rallied towards the driveway, the other half splitting off towards the Noxium.

A firing line was set up in seconds and a wall of muzzle flashes lit up in front of You.

It was becoming difficult to process nearly anything at all. It all felt so far away. Sure you could see the hail of bullets flying at you, piercing through and cutting deep into your flesh as the Thing charged at the Crusaders, but you couldn’t… feel it, the blissfully sharp warning of pain, the agency of consciousness had been ripped away, plunged into a bucket of warm ooze and replaced by the gluttony of the Thing which was set free by the humming sword in your hand.

The picture presented to you became less and less detailed, as clarity was stripped away the images came in red-tinged flashes like the emerging flicker of a film reel.

Throats ripped out here, a spine pulled out there… You watched a man's head pulled - not cut, but pulled off by the neck with your own poorly rebonded hand. The brutal flashes became more and more overwhelming, and you had a front row seat, the only member of a rather sorry audience, floating in a vat of nothingness.

Your eyes grow heavy, lover-boy. I can feel them, just like I can feel you down there. Close them, give in… just leave it all to me. Let me kill them all, devour them all, fuck them all. Leave yourself behind and rest.

You were so tired, drowning in a comforting quiet. But…

“No… No-NO-NO!!”

You tensed, forcing your eyes open, tensing every muscle in an effort to **** your consciousness back into the waking world.

What was once a far away image from the bottom of the well, was now a rippling pool only a few arm-lengths away. And you didn't like what you saw.

The Thing stood atop a vigil of slaughter. Covered head to toe in Crusader flesh, bone and sullied viscera. None of them had survived. You recognised Lacrimosa struggling literally under your feet. The Thing pressed down on her chainmail covered neck, slowly but surely forcing the heel down harder and harder as she writhed, slashing at your heel with a silver hunting knife.

Even as the flesh gave way, it did not stir or even acknowledge. Instead it was sniffing wildly, your head flinging from side to side as figures began to approach.

Many of the Witches had sustained minimal injury, Vana had thrown up shielding walls of dirt and stone to prevent any from getting through to them. Their shield's opening pointed right at you.

Many Wolves were battling wildly with the Noxium with then Boneheads working to distract and strike, while Cleo's butlers laid down suppressing fire from above, but a small group of three splintered towards your snarling body.

Lady Morrigan had cracked a werewolf's neck with one brutal gesture, and she marched in your direction fists clenched tightly in irritation.

And Requiem, pushed himself up on his silver kite shield, his distorted voice erupting as he saw your puppeted form. “Lacrimosa! You damn fool. Hold on, I'm coming!”

Like a mad man he charged through the mud and stone, sword raised, ready to lop off your head.

The blade throbbed like a truthful heart, demanding circulation, baying for more blood.

In a mad dash, you saw the three groups speeding towards you aching to reach you first. Even in your pool of sensationlessness, you doubted that you would survive their combined forces.

Flora was among the wolves that attacked, she swung a massive claw which cleaved through air. The Thing slipped past her like a ghost, your bare feet bolted across her long arm slicing wildly at the wolves shoulder, separating collar from shoulder blade as the She-Wolf howled.

As her heavy body rolled over, crushing Lacrimosa under her weight, Your body whipped into a mad spiral taking a five fingered claw across Requiem’s breastplate, the metal peeling apart under the colossal blow.

Angus.and the massive Dagda weaved in.

You felt a pair of strong arms curl around both sides of your shoulders locking you in place.

Angus… or this iteration of Angus, shoved his fingers into your chest while the other Angus, secured you. Meanwhile the Cauldron-headed vampire lifted his humongous arm and smashed down upon your skull with a giant fist.

You felt your chest rupture and your skull crack, but the Thing merely exploded into a gurgling guffaw.

Like an inflating balloon your head reformed, your jaws snapped up, the sharp powerful fangs locking onto Dagda’s gigantic wrist.

He snarled and then yelped as the Thing with a mere flick of your neck, lifted Dagda off ground and slammed his mass brutally crushing the Angus who had impaled you.

With a shrug of your shoulders and the tensing of your back, whipped with such an incredible ****, that a shockwave was sent into the clone of Angus who held you in place.

You felt the cold splash of dead blood coat your back as the Angus-Clone’s chest cavity exploded through his spine.

The Thing hovered as you stretched. You - The Real You, reached out from the depths of the well, weakly trying to paw at the fringes of your own consciousness.

“ss… Stop this… please, I beg you. You have to let… let me go… This is too much”

But the Scarlet Sword which pierced your palm hummed with satisfaction, as it sucked in the crimson blood all around you, sinking deep into its blade and then deep into you.

FLESH, MORE FLESH, MORE! MOOORRREEEE!!

As if plunged into a vat of molasses you felt the weight of your bloodlust pull you down deeper.

Your lips parted so violently and harshly that you felt the corners of your mouth tear, your clawed fingers pulling at your hair as the Thing fought against your will.

“WIND AND INTWINE, WHIP AND ROOT!”

For only a moment the ground shook. Thick brown roots like tendrils sprouted from the sodden stone underneath your feet. The whipping vines thrust and wound around your torso, spindling your arm together tightly and forcing the Thing down into the ground.

It screamed like a wild dog as it fought against the restraint.

Three of the Witches dashed over, limping so hard that they nearly collapsed. The WItch in White, Regina, slid down to the Thing, flinching as it gnashed your teeth flaccidly at her,

“Quickly Mistress!” The Enchantress in brown robes, Vana pleaded, forcing a charging werewolf back with a flick of her wand and violent spraying of stone.

The tip of Regina's stark ivory birch wand glowed with an eldritch light as she chanted strange hymns, gesturing as if painting on the air “You're going to give us back what you stole, you animal.” She hissed angrily.

The Thing was slowly lifted off the ground, floating as an otherworldly light began to flow all around it.

The purity of its wrath was truly astounding. It was endless, depthless, and it was from this bottomless source that its rage bloomed into a terrible ire.

Regina seemed to realise too late… that mere vines were not enough to control the Thing you had become.

Muscles flexing beyond the constraints of what you thought possible, you felt your own flesh and sinew burst. So thick and dense were the fibres that they tore through the Roots like tissue paper, any that your imploded ribboned flesh didn't cut were shorn clean by claw and blade in a spinning arc of blood and steel.

Regina recoiled as your body quickly sewed itself back together. The Thing grimaced in delight, twisting to stab the Akuma deep into Regina's belly.

And yet… She was a lot faster than she looked.

While one hand grasped her wand, the other had slipped something from the inside of her robe. It was a small, croaking thing, pale white with big eyes. The tip of her wand kissed its back and as she spoke, the small horned toad was shrouded in an aura of violet smog.

“CHOSEN FAMILIAR: DREAD AMPHIBIAN!”

A wall of amethyst smoke blocked the Thing's path. And when the blade cut through, it did not find Regina… only the vast open maw of something unfathomably huge, its gaping mouth and foul breath embracing you as it clamped down tight, trapping you inside.

The gigantic ivory toad held you tight in its dank, moist mouth. trapping you between the slippery crevices of its sticky tongue.

“By the old one, he nearly got me. Ladies, let's get the hell out of here! Toad, I command you to follow me!” Regina cried from outside.

The Thing was once again trapped, in a - somehow - even less pleasant prison. But Akuma Muramasa remained bound to your hand.

The Dread Toad lurched suddenly, kicking its back legs so hard that Regina was flung backwards. It shook and quivered, the massive soulless black eyes rolling back. Streaks and hints of a crimson tipped blade flashed all about its rotund form until-

A curved dripping sword blade shot out from within the Toad's eye socket.

Like a collapsing building the Toad's titanous body imploded into a messy pile of spongy flesh.

Standing amongst the throne of fowl viscera, was the Thing, drenched in gore, sword in hand, radiating a bottomless fury. A bottomless fury, directed at the troupe of Witches.

A yowling mass of fur came hurtling in, flying at you. Flora pouncing at you, to tear you apart. But the Thing merely spun aside, its glare never breaking from Regina as it snatched Flora's already torn shoulder and wrenched the breach even wider.

The She-Wolf flew away into the battlefield carried by her own momentum, as the Thing stepped down from the butchered mound of the Toad.

Remnants of the Toad clung to the air. The Thing stalked towards the Witches, shambling through the blood mist.

Regina and the witches recoiled at its quivering gate, feeling the ruinous intent which spilt from its every pore.

It jolted suddenly, a broad silver gleam emerged from your chest as a well of blood quickly followed. Lacrimosa’s scythe cut deep between your shoulder blades… but all sensation had fled at this stage.

Lacrimosa visibly shivered as the Thing looked through your eyes and filled the Crusader with dread as it slowly pushed back, driving the silver blade deeper into your flesh.

The back of your rigid knuckles collapsed into Lacrimosa’s shining mask as it struck with a wild and vicious blow which familiarised her with the Mansion’s western face as she smashed into it like a wrecking ball.

Your foot came down in a hammer blow, making the ground rupture and quake. The paved ground beneath the Witches' feet swallowed them up to their knees.

One of the Witches wore a robe of luminous yellow, you had no real clue who that one was… another one of your classmates maybe? Someone else that you have known since kindergarten?

You never stop to think, but in this dark place in this chaotic haze, you realised that you could have walked past her a thousand times, exchanged notes for a test, exchanged simple smiles perhaps.

All that time, in the vicinity of another, existing in the same habitat for nearly half of your life… you… you never thought about the fact that you’d be the one to take their life.

That you’d be the cause of their ****.

The Thing was beside the troupe of sunken witches in an instant and with a crazed but oddly clean slash… both of the Witch in Yellow’s legs were severed at the hip.

The flesh didn’t cleave… but, cracked and separated more akin to something hard but fragile, like porcelain.

A vivacious pool of deep azure liquid flowed slowly from the stumps like tar. And she screamed in agony.

“NO, D-“ Vana cried.

It was as easy as smashing a china vase. Your heel cracked through the hood, hair, skull and brain, crushed beneath the colossal strength.

The Witch in Yellow twitched and then fell still.

Regina roared with absolute terror and rage, her anguish manifested as she whipped her wand and screamed “LASH: STORMFALL!”

And Vana; following, cried: “STONE: DANCE AND WALTZ!”

Your body was suddenly ripped from the earth by a devilish wind pulled up into the air as a showering blitz of stones lacerated your back.

A few of the Witches managed to free themselves as the Thing yowled madly spinning up above as the shingle stripped skin from muscle.

Arms wrapped around your waist and a harsh jolt of **** pushed you out of the spiralling current. Rolling in the dirt and stone alongside one another.

The vampire quickly zipped up on their feet, pulling you up so that you were standing.

“Charlie, Blood God… you’re a mess. We need to get you back to the others.” Octavia said, pointing to the wall of fighting Noxium, fighting off the combined forces from the mansion's porch. Her tattooed pale hands, sizzled as she grasped Lacrimosa’s scythe and slowly, carefully unsheathed it from your back.

“Hey, you listening? I said we need to get the hell out of here!” She cried as a gunshot whizzed inches from her shoulder.

Your eyes traced the silver scythe, clutched in Octavia's hands, the silver rending away the skin as if she had pressed it against a silver skillet. And when it gazed upon her, Octavia's face contorted… as she realised that it was not her master who looked back.

The Thing snatched the Scythe and with an ear-piercing screech cleaved through Octavia's hips. You watched in horror from the depths of yourself, her torso slipping free from its proper place, arms flailing loosely, her face painted in sheer confusion and horror.

You felt three dozen eyes suddenly snap towards you… many of the Noxium, your brethren were frozen in shock at the sight before them. The Thing only grinned, its smile so tightly **** that you felt the warm gush of blood flow from your gums.

It seemed ready to dash forth, to flood into the Noxium's ranks and carve a heretical path when a dense pale arm close-lined It mid sprint.

The Thing spun up from the ground, snarling in wrath as Lady Morrigan stood over you, her fist raised “You won't escape our business so easily, you craven bastard.”

In a mad flurry the Thing cut and swung with blade and claw, hungering for the taste of Seorsia’s blood. But it would be a hunger left unsatisfied. Every blow was simply disregarded as if by chance.

Some she simply ducked passed or stepped away from, others were glanced off by flying debris, many just plain missed.

“I had hoped, beyond hope, that you, of all people, could grant me a boon. For hundreds of years, have I seeked out someone worthy, someone who could usher me into the hands of oblivion, or at least offer me a true challenge. TIME AND TIME AGAIN YOU DISAPOINT ME!”

The Thing's ferocious flurry was interrupted abruptly by Morrigan's calloused hands, each one smashing into the sides of your head, making a terrible dirge overtake your senses.

With a single, decisive, sweeping kick, Morrigan stomped out your kneecaps which not only shattered but folded back. Grasping you by the shoulders, which alone caved them into your joints - she buried her knee so deep into your stomach that it scrambled your insides.

Finally, as her fingers closed around your wrist, restraining the Thing from cutting with the Scarlet blade… Seorsia, with a brutally slow and careful savagery, pulled your wrist away from your forearm, the bones cracking, the sinew stretching, veins weeping… the Akuma Muramasa, still barbed deep into your torn hand… fell flaccidly to the earth

I WONT GO BACK, I-I CANT GO BACK, I WAS FREE!!! I NEED MORE, GIVE ME MORE, DONT LOCK ME AWAY AGAIN I CANT-

The Frenzied Beast was plunged down the well of your unconsciousness.

Emerging from that… it was unlike anything you had ever experienced. Like being quartered by a team of horses, struck by lightning, run down by a rushing train, it was the worst shock imaginable. Although nigh catatonic, unable to move or even speak, you had been completely compressed by a wall of pain and delirium so potent that you were essentially paralysed.

Seorsia chuckled as you went limp in her grasp, even as your vessel-bursted eyes were still wide open.

“Not so tough without your little toy are you? ARE YOU!?”

You were not sure if you felt her punches. Everything was just one big radiating agony, but you felt your cheekbones crack, your jaw disconnect, your eye socket caved in. She sunk her fist into your face again and again and again until you could see nothing but the outline of reality and the shattered colours of blinking stars like a mirror dropped on a painted canvas.

When she stopped, you felt your mangled visage press up against her shoulder… Was she embracing you?

Her voice came, lower, softer, sweeter than you had ever heard it before “I… I am so bored, so bored of this existence. At first I thought that killing you, and your aunt, your sister and that fucking ancient grandfather of yours would finally make me feel… something, but I was wrong. You are not what she promised you would be, even with Hisa’s little trinket, you just weren’t enough.

C-can I tell you something?

I’m so - so sick of this life, this curse. I have tried so hard to find satisfaction in anything in this world, the fake shadows of my brother Dagda, or Angus or… haha, even little Eponna, but they are all just dust in the wind.

I hope so badly Charles, that when I devour you and you become saturated in my warmth, that I can find you in my pleasure dreams which gets my cunt wet - that you can soak in the viscera of my loved ones memories,

See you soon, Baby Drake. You are mine now”

An icy cold pierced into your throat, so potent, so agonising that it snapped you out of your paralysis. You clawed and scratched weakly at her back, slapping, pushing at her… but she was solid and planted too deep.

Your blood tore through your veins, draining and fleeing into the jaws of her cold embrace.

You felt your life on the verge, at the precipice of the end. She was reaching down not just to your lifeblood but to the depths of your very core.

She would consume your soul.

Everything began to slip away. Everything save for… a single sound. You couldn’t tell if the battle was drowning out or if it had actually stopped. Dominating all things was a sound akin to a military jet breaking the sound barrier.

A roaring piercing sound, which grew and grew, until its deafening pitch overtook all.

“You see that!?”

“Where’s that sound coming from!?”

“More enemies!?”

“Above us!”

“Holy shit, fucking take cover!?”

You heard the voices suddenly swell and even Seorsia’s hold waned as she muttered a single word “Fuck….”

There was some kind of blast, so powerful that all who stood on the battlefield were flung back, and as all flashed into a brilliant, disarming white, you felt a presence which dwarfed all others who had come before.

Regardless of who won or lost in this battle, whatever had come, had manufactured its end.