- last post: 01.01.0001 12:00 AM PDT
So sorry I haven't been on much guys, especially Seraph. I wanted to finish the story, but I'm bogged down to my neck in work for an AP class I'm taking right now over the summer. Keep going, I guess, and I'll drop in when I can. Basically though, Seraph, I let you go and get posessed or whatever you'd like to call it by the orbs to teach you a lesson. I was going to go up with you and destroy the orbs with my sword. That is their test, because the only one that could withstand the blade would be the original, the one I gave you. Then I could obtain it and rework the succesion of Praetor by getting rid of the orb and transferring it's power into my sword, which has the essence of the previous Dolorous in it, gathered from the star he created to stop the swarm. It fluctuates from ice blue to white to a burning hot yellow, as his eyes did. Basically, the character I have now is him from some time before he died, sent from a parallel universe by the Jjarro, the race the Praetors serve. The sword hilt was indeed the same as the original Dolorous (back from Laser War: The New Age) that died destroying the godsends. It's essence was extinguished because it's first master was gone, yet it gained power again from the star. So... *deep breath* if you could, I will narrate:
I lead Kensai to the peak of the tower, shrouded in darkness and all manner of terror. Yet the sword hilt ignited into a blazing glory that drove all shadows away, impenitrable as a star that brightens with the coming of the evening. One by one, I thrust my blade through each of the spheres, which shattered into crystalline fragments that echoed off the shrouded floor. One at last remained... A small grimace twisted my face as I turned to Kensai.
"Now you will witness the completion of the circle, the cycle that will end once more with my ultimate demise, as it was and always will, until the coming of the Beginning. Remember your faults, but not as your own. They plague all of your people, indeed, every being in existence. For in every being, there is capacity to do both good or evil. Some will always choose either side, yet it is for those few, those who tip the scales, that decide the fate of all those who follow them. In that way, we are all the determining factor. We can all make a difference, for we all can tip the scale one way or the other. The difference between the hero and those who stand behind him is not his inherent virtue, but the virtue given him. You have been given much, and much is required of you. I suggest you use your assets wisely. No action concieved does not bear consequence. I will be watching. Farewell, not for the last time..."
And with that, I thrust my sword into the final sphere, which is set ablaze instantly. You can not look for long because of the intense light and heat that seems to continue growing with each passing moment. You force yourself to turn one last time to behold two flaming eyes, shining as stars themselves in all their fury.
And then. Nothing. You find yourself on the ground outside the tower. Or at least, if there were a tower anymore... Nothing remains, except a charred and ash ridden spot of ground, and the initials marked within by a pattern that had not been scorched.
CMD
You look up to behold a ship of massive proportions, sleek as death itself, and just as silent. Just as soon as you can make out anything more than it's sprawling shillouette, it vanishes with a burst of speed, and a flash of light somewhere in the cold claw of space.