| abstract
| - Featuring: Silandra Silverwood The skies over the battlefield were thick with the smoke rising from innumerable pyres, while the ground was parched and barren. All around was in ruin; buildings torn apart, trees shredded to splinters, torn banners flapping in the wind; even the ground itself churned up and sundered. However, more arresting, were the bodies. Innumerable corpses were spread across the field, scattered in a haphazard way that suggested chaos and confusion in their deaths. They were present in all races and wore different colours; Horde, Alliance, Scarlet Crusade, Argent Dawn - it did not matter. All were equal in death. A large mound of bodies had gathered in the center of the battlefield, a lone figure standing atop them. They were clad in blood-red armour, its design unfamiliar and yet clearly intimidating; large spikes adorned the shoulder, while heavy metal buckles secured its frame. The figure wore no helm, however, their face was obscured in the smoke and darkness. In one hand, they carried a massive sword, its blade adorned with alien runes. The figure turned, staring at some unseen observer, otherworldly blue eyes glaring through the smoke. The rest of their face remained hidden, as if deliberately obscured. They spoke, their voice hollow and echoing across the battlefield. As a Death Knight, Brutox knew that he would never be a fully accepted part of the Horde. He would always be an outsider, seen as different at best and hated at worst. He would never be able to fit into Orcish society, instead being an outcast both due to what he was and the uncomfortable memories of their past that he provoked. That he had found a degree of acceptance with the Aunty Jack Show was some comfort, but he knew that was a small part of a greater whole. However, it was not this fact that bothered him. He had long ago resigned himself to the truths of the situation and grown to accept the hateful glares he got from those around him. Even Karg's occasionally calling him "Gorefiend" to his face (but only when Aunty Jack couldn't hear him) didn't bother him any more. Acceptance was, to his mind, a large step to his redemption, one that he was more then willing to take. There was one thing that did get to him, however, one thing about his current state that he loathed above all else, one that did drive him to the brink on more then one occasion. And that was a lot of his fellow Death Knights. Many of those who had been freed from the Lich King's control seemed to act no differently to how they had when they were unthinking minions of the Scourge. Some of them even reveled in the carnage and slaughter they unleashed, and yearned for more. To his mind, they might has well have still been Scourge. In fact, he'd often figured that it would be better if they were. It'd give him a reason to kill them, rather then having to merely accept them. This thought had been running through his mind from the moment that he'd spied another of his kind, one that he personally knew. Laj'ral was a Jungle Troll Death Knight, one who, like him, had gone form being a part of the Horde to serving the Scourge and back again. However, unlike him, the Troll showed no signs of regret or remorse for his past actions. "Hey mon." he began, sliding up next to Brutox. The hollow echo of his voice made even the most casual greetings take on sinister undertones. "What do you want?" Brutox replied, not even bothering to make eye contact with the Troll, instead continuing to slowly walk. "Jus' seein how a fellow Death Knight be doin, mon." "I am fine." He snarled. "Doing my duties for the Horde." "For de Horde, huh?" Laj'ral continued. "I be doing duties for the horde too. Guess where I be doing them." "I don't care." "Hillsbrad." The Troll seemed to ignore Brutox's comment, instead his voice taking on an almost hungry tone. "I lead a strike on some of dem Human farmers. We slaughtered dem, burned their crops, poisoned de soil an' took their skulls as trophies. All of dem." He grinned broadly, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "Ya know what, I be tinkin' we should head up to Silverpine... maybe deal with some o dem Dalaran mages. Jus' cos we gotta put up wit dere self-righteous arrogance in Dalaran don't mean we cant get some vengeance on dem, eh?" Brutox stopped and turned to face him. "Are you proud of what you've done?" The troll laughed. "Course I am, mon." "See, that's the thing, you piece of filth." Brutox snarled. "Do you know what's the difference between you and a Ghoul?" "I be-" "A ghoul has no mind of its own." Brutox cut him off. "A ghoul has no responsibility for its actions. Thus the ghoul, when it does foul and stupid, stupid things, is not at fault." "So-" "So what I am saying, you worthless scum, is that you are less then a Ghoul." He barked in the Troll's face. "You have the brain to know otherwise, but you choose not to use it. You give in to those baser instincts far, far too easily. And for what? A pointless victory against foes that don't matter? Wasting your energies against irrelevant matters when you should be fighting the Scourge? Why even bother?" "Cos it's fun." Brutox was only barely containing himself. "You disgust me." The troll laughed again. "You know what you lack, mon?" "What?" "Balls." he grinned again. "Ya Aunty be takin' dem, methinks." "What? Just because I have standards?" Brutox shot back. "Because I know what the true threat is, the one that we should be focusing on rather then wasting our time with futile efforts?" "I mean because ya do whatever she says, don't ya?" He sneered. "Me, I don' care what anyone says. I do what I want, regardless." "Idiot." "Me?" He laughed. "Naw, you're the one who-" He stopped, then trailed off, glancing away. Brutox followed his gaze, noting a red haired Blood Elf, dressed in red and black armour, walking past the pair of them. "I'm watching you." She stated, her voice low and flat. "Both of you. Don't think, for a moment, that I don't know what you are doing." She continued, walking past them without looking back. "Plotting against us, pretending that you're loyal when you're still a part of the Scourge." "Blood Elves." Brutox muttered as he watched her leave. "For all I've said, I am glad that Aunty Jack won't let them into the guild." "Ya well..." The troll trailed off, looking almost apprehensive. "Dat one? She be a part of mine." And then it was Brutox's turn to laugh. "You know you are a piece of filth, Laj'ral. The lowest of the low. But..." He glanced again at the Sin'dorei woman. "I almost feel sorry for you now." Being in Dalaran always put Silandra in a bad mood. The simple fact that it was full of arcane energy and its users only served to remind her of what she had been once and could never be again. Being in the Sunreaver Sanctum offered a little relief, if only because it meant that she was surrounded by her fellow Sin'dorei and, as such, did not have to put up with the rest of the Horde as much. Even then, it was tempered by the simple fact that they let others from the Horde into the Sanctum. It was one of those that she had come to see; Bowen Thropping, the leader of the Redrock Raiders, the Guild that she had attached herself to. A Tauren woman, Throppen had been one of the founders of their guild. While she had very little respect for the woman, Silandra felt duty bound to follow her. Being in the Raiders had presented Silandra with a few opportunities that she would have not gained on her own. Thropen was in one of the district's open gardens, standing next to an ornate, decorative fountain. There were several other members of the guild also present, but Silandra simply ignored them, marching up to her. "You asked to see me?" She began, throwing Bowen a deliberately sloppy and disrespectful salute. "I did." She replied, not noticing Silandra's actions. "I need you to undertake a mission against the Scourge for-" "Scourge?" Silandra cut her off. "Anything. Just name it." There was more then a hint of anticipation in her voice, a certain hunger to do battle with her greatest enemies. Or at least, those that weren't Demons, Forest Trolls or traitorous Blood Elves. "-I have become aware of a Scourge camp near one of our failed staging grounds in Northrend." She stated. "The Scourge might have found information from our assault with regards to our forces and strengths." She unfurled a map of Icecrown on the fountain. "It is very important to me - to us, I mean, that I return this - that is, that you return this information to me so that I can return it to the Horde and prevent it from falling into enemy hands." "I see." Silandra flatly stated. "Walk with me, Silandra. I want to discuss this more fully with you." Silandra nodded, easily keeping pace with the larger Tauren as they strolled through the gardens. "Silandra, I have a lot of faith in you." Bowen began. "You've shown a great deal of dedication and loyalty to this guild, more so then many of its other members." "Loyalty is an admirable trait." Silandra replied. "It is too uncommon. Those who lack loyalty should be harshly punished for their actions." "Indeed." She continued. "I've done a lot of research on you, Silandra. It seems you've been in some other guilds in the past." "I have. What of it?" "Well, it seems that you left a number of them after several people in that guild died." She continued. "In places like Blackrock Depths or Hellfire Citadel..." "They were foolish. They would not listen to me, or obey my orders. They deserved death." Silandra's tone was flat and unresponsive. "I understand that. And I would expect someone under your command to do exactly what you said. Loyalty and obedience is a very important part of this guild." "What does this have to do with my mission?" "The thing is, Silandra, I believe that you could do a lot for me in this guild." "How so?" "When delving into dungeons and other such dangerous places, it is standard tactics to have a Warrior or Paladin lead the way, one who specializes in protecting others in their party from harm." Bowen explained. "While we have a number of individuals capable of doing this, I think that you should be first and foremost amongst them. I want you to do this for me, Silandra." "I am not a protector." She stated, anger evident in her voice. "I am a soldier. My job is to destroy the enemy, not to protect others. I am an instrument of retribution" "I know. But I think you should anyway." Bowen flatly replied, apparently ignoring Silandra's tone. "Retrain, refocus your skills, buy some armour better suited for the role, get a shield, all that. It'll be better for me - for us - in the long run." “You have Teppy.” She stated, flatly. “He does the same thing.” “Yes, but he's a warrior, not a Blood Knight.” “And he's served you faithfully for years.” “Yes, but I think that you'd be better for what I want you to do then he would be.” She finished. The pair of them stopped by the entrance to the sanctum, just as the Troll Death Knight she had passed earlier, was entering. "Oh, and I think you should tale Laj'ral with you." Bowen finished. "He is also experienced against the Scourge and, like yourself, he has a lot of promise with the guild." Silandra glared angrily at the troll. "I can handle this myself." "Likewise." Laj'ral snarled. "I don't net her help to kill some Scourge or anything else." "Regardless, you two should work together to deal with this." Bowen cut off their protests. "For my - that is, all of our benefits." Silandra let out an angry grunt. "I do not need his help. Not form a Troll, not from a Death Knight and not from a Troll Death Knight." "Silandra, I think-" "Nor I her's, mon. I wouldn't go near dat Blood Elf if you paid me." "But-" Silandra snatched the map away from Bowen. "I will deal with this myself." She turned, storming off towards the landing, clearly angry. "Ya, mon." The troll added. "And I be just as capable as her, an' don' need her help for anything." He followed Silandra, leaving Bowen behind. "How odd." She commented watching the pair of them leave. "Why would a Troll Death Knight and a Blood Elf Paladin not want to work together?" The bleakness of Icecrown was only emphasised by the ruins of the battlefield scattered below Silandra. The bare ice and rock was covered in bodies, the fallen of both the Horde and the hated Alliance. She'd heard tell that the captain of the Ogrim's Hammer had ordered his soldiers to ambush the Alliance, ensuring that they would be caught between the Horde and the Scourge, and thus wiped out. She approved of the idea; the enemy of her enemy was, after all, her enemy as well. But that was not important; instead she was focused on a single objective; a Horde command post that had been over-run and destroyed in the fighting; the tents and other structures had collapsed, the banner of the Warsong clan torn and thrown to the ground. She had no idea if the information that she was after had survived or not; she just knew that she had a job to do. And she had a plan; it was not subtle; instead it was very straightforward and direct. Her Netherdrake swooped down over the camp, Silandra simply leaping off its back as it passed overhead. Just before she hit the ground, she was enveloped in a protective bubble of holy energy, reducing the impact to nothingness, but at the same time, taking the Scourge agents completely by surprise. An Necromancer and a pair of Acolytes were there, working over the corpses of the fallen Horde soldiers, not prepared for her sudden and unexpected arrival. As soon as she hit the ground, she muttered a brief command as she ran towards the two acolytes. A storm of holy energy erupted around her, appearing as a flight of insubstantial hammers that slammed into the pair of them, pummeling the pair of them and driving them back. With an angry shout, Silandra lunged at one of the Acolytes, her blade glowing with brilliant golden energy as she ran it straight through his chest. Pulling it out, she swung at the second, swiftly decapitating him. Then, with a yell, she turned to face the Necromancer. “I will not be so easily defeated.” He confidently stated. “For I do not stand alone. Arise, my minions!” There was a clattering of metal behind her; turning, Silandra saw movement amongst the fallen soldiers. A pair of Orcish bodies arose, transformed into twisted skeletons, still clad in their battle armour, the insignia of the Warsong clan still visible on their chests. Groaning without voices, the skeletons advanced, wickedly sharp axes in their bony hands. Silandra didn't care if they were her former comrades; to her, they were simply the enemy. She had never cared for the Orcs, and only barely tolerated them as allies. She felt no regret or remorse for what she was about to do them, nor any pity for what had happened to them. She threw herself into the midst of the enemy, a brilliant golden flame washing off her, consecrating the ground around her. The skeletons shook, repulsed by the holy energy flowing through the ground. Taking advantage of the situation, she lashed out with a blast of holy energy, exorcising one of the Skeletons. Struck in the ribcage, it collapsed into a pile of blackened ash. Another stumbled forward, swinging with its massive battleaxe. However, the undead's movement was slow, Silandra easily dodging to one side, beofre she struck back. Her sword slammed into the undead Orc's chest, shattering it, a burst of holy light disrupting the necromatic energies that gave it life. The skeleton shattered, bones and armour clattering to the ground. Turning, she saw the Necromancer running. “Nobody escapes!” She yelled, unleashing another spell. A brilliant golden burst, again taking the form of a massive hammer, struck the Necromancer, stunning him in his tracks. She vaulted over to him, slamming him to the ground before picking him up, handling him with a strength that belied her frame. “Where are the plans?” Silandra all but screamed as she grabbed the Necromancer by his collar, shaking him violently. “Where are they?' “And where's Heigan?” Silandra froze at the voice. A woman's, it spoke perfect Thalassian with a dry, husky tone. But there was more, a deep, unnatural echo that suggested that its speaker was anything but a common Elf. "He won't tell you. It's pointless, and you know it." Droping the Necromancer, she turned around, her face betraying more then a hint of surprise and even fear. "You." She stated, sizing up her foe. "Ashblood." Before her was another Sin'dorei woman; similar in size and build to Silandra, she had long, dark red hair and pallid skin. Her face was shadowed, save for her eyes, which shone with an unholy blue light. She was dressed in blood-red armour, a massive sword in her hand, eerily glowing runes adorning its blade. "Who else?" She replied. "What are you doing here?" Ashblood laughed, the sound hollow. "This is Icecrown, Silandra. Why would I not be here at the seat of the Lich King's power?" She grinned broadly. "I followed you here, of course. You know why." "I will not yield to you." Behind her, the Necromancer scurried away, his presence completely forgotten. "You have no choice, you know that." She continued. "Here, in this place? Icecrown magnifies my power. Here, I am greater, more dangerous then I have ever been before." "I will defeat you." "You haven't in past, and you never will." Ashblood continued, her voice full of contempt. "You know it. Every time you have tried to destroy me, I have only returned to haunt you." "I defeated you in Blackrock-" "-a mere inconvenience. I stand before you-" "-I ran you through in Hellfire-" "-and yet here I remain-" "-I buried you in Archidoun!" Ashblood laughed again. "You sought to defeat a Death Knight in the city of the dead? You are more foolish then I thought." She rolled her head, then looked Silandra in the eye; her unholy blue gaze meeting Silandra's demonic green. "All you can ever do is run from me, Silandra. I will never die. I will never be defeated." "And I will never yield to you." "Will you?" She raised a brow. "You have come close in past, and you know it. Don't you remember the first time we met?" "I do." "And you very nearly succumbed there." Ashblood continued. "You could have taken Lebaum's sword as your own... and you knew you wanted to. I was so surprised when you resisted it..." "I will not be so easily tempted." Silandra stated, a defiant tone in her voice. "I have grown stronger since then." "As have I." Ashblood countered. "Every time we clash, we are equals. However, there is still death. Those around you die, Silandra, by my hand. Their deaths are your failures. And they will continue, until such a time as you yield to me." "I will destroy you first." "Will you?" Ahsblood continued. "Think about it, Silandra. This is all about power. You want it. You crave it. Ever since the arcane gifts that were rightfully yours were so cruelly stripped away from you it has been your one true desire." "I desire only to serve my people." "You lie!" She shouted, a triumphant tone in her voice. "It has always been power. Your becoming a Blood Knight, well that was just another form of power, wasn't it? You couldn't go back to your old life, so you instead turned to something else. But you wanted more, didn't you? You had to have more." "No!" "Yes, admit it. That is Why you reached out to Lebaum's runeblade. That is why you came so close to the brink. You could see in it power." "-the Scourge's power-" "-the power to destroy your enemies!" She continued, her voice building to a fever pitch of excitement. "Think of it, Silandra. All those who have been your enemies, all those who, in past have stood in your way. The power to destroy, Silandra. The power to decide who lives and who dies." "It is not what I want!" "Is it? Can you truly say that?" Ashblood leered at her. "Think of it... imagine if you had that power; you could have struck down Kael'thas himself and reclaimed the Sunwell! You could have slain Zul'jin, ending once and for all the greatest threat to your people. You could have eliminated that fool Thrall; you know he's weak and spineless. Someone like you, armed with that power - you could rule the Horde yourself if you wanted to!" "Go away!" Silandra shouted. "I will not yield to you!" Laj'ral grinned as he watched the blood drip off the end of his Runeblade. The fleeing Necromancer hadn't been any threat to him at all; in fact, there was no reason for him to have attacked at all. Laj'ral simply did it for the sheer enjoyment of killing; that his victim had been one of the Scourge's servants only made the kill that much better. As he advanced, however, his joy lessened. The Scourge base camp was in ruins, the rest of its inhabitants slain. Unfortunately, it seemed that Silandra had gotten there before he could; even more unfortunately, he could see no signs that she was amongst the dead. “Bah, dis be useless.” He muttered to himself. “She probably already be back to Bowen wit' da information.” He really hadn't wanted her to succeed; he wanted to prove himself to the Raiders' leaders that he was their best and most capable member, and as such, worthy of Bowen's support and favour. That he didn't like Silandra only made this desire stronger. He was about to turn around and abandon this quest, when he heard something that caught his attention. “Your words are hollow, Ashblood, as hollow as the power you promise.” he raised his head, listening with his long ears, recognizing the sound of Silandra's voice. “A traitor such as you deserves death, and nothing more.” Dis be soundin' interestin. He followed the sound of her voice, moving as silently as his heavy armour would allow. Edging around the ruins of the camp, he stopped by a rock. There Silandra stood, her back to him, clearly engaged in an argument with some other party. However, no matter how far he craned himself around, he couldn't catch sight of whoever it was who she was arguing with. He edged closer, his curiosity getting the better of his caution. “And I will not rest until you are utterly destroyed.” Silandra snarled. “Until this face is over, finished!” “You had better be prepared for an eternity of struggle, Silandra.” Ashblood replied, a smug tone in her voice. “Because so far, your efforts have been pretty lackluster... no that's not true. They have been entertaining in their futility.” “You dare to-” “Hush.” Ahsblood cut her off. “We have an audience for this little drama.” Silandra turned around, seeing Laj'ral behind her. “What do you want, Troll?” “Me?” He gave her a rather weak attempt at a disarming smile. “I jus' be watching dis little show of yours.” “Go away, Troll.” She snarled, her eyes narrowing in anger. “This has nothing to do with you.” “Ah come on, dis be quite entertainin'” “Then you are a bigger fool then I thought. This is clearly a matter of life and death. Any idiot can see this.” He laughed, a hollow, cruel laugh. “How so, mon? You jus' be standin' here, talkin' to yaself.” Silandra glanced back at Ashblood, who's face seemed as impassive as ever, save for a slight curling of her lips that suggested a supressed grin. “What do you mean?” She asked, speaking slowly as if trying to control her anger. “Jus' what I said. You be talkin' to yaself. No, better, arguin' wit yaself.” “What?” Silandra snapped. “Can't you see her?” “See who?” “Ashblood!” She snapped. “That other Death Knight, the champion of the Scourge! She's right in front of you, fool!” “I see nothing.” “How can you not see her?” “He's mocking you, Silandra.” Ashblood calmly noted. “Shut up, you!” She shot back to the Scourge, before turning back to Laj'ral. “She's right there!” “I see nuttin'.” He shook his head. “All I see is you goin' very, very crazy.” “Don't call me crazy, Troll!” “He called you crazy.” Ahsblood stated, to underscore the point. “You be totally crazy, talkin' to ya imaginary friend.” “She is as real as you or I!” Silandra shouted. “Den why can't I see her?” He asked, the mocking tone evident. “Look at him, making a fool of you.” Ashblood continued. “And he's probably going back to your leader, intent on painting you as a deranged fool. You know he will.” “Shut up!” Silandra shouted. “This is... this is a trick, I can tell! You're both conspiring against me!” “Dere be no plot, mon. You jus' be nuts.” “There he goes again, mocking you.” Ashblood offered. “A Troll, and one of the Scourge at that... your greatest enemies, all in one package. I'm surpised you're letting him.” “You're still in league with the Scourge, I can tell!” She continued. “You're doing this to weaken my resolve, to lower my defenses... this is all a trick, a trick to drive me into the Lich King's arms.” “You are so very clever, Silandra, to see through his actions.” Ashblood continued. “He is, of course, but my puppet, a puppet aimed at you.” “Now I know you be crazy.” Laj'ral continued. “I be hatin' da Lich King more den anyone. I never be wantin' to work for him again.” “You lie!” “Ya know what, I be leavin' ya to ya imaginary friend.” He finished. “Maybe I be tellin' Bowen dat her pride an' joy be completely outa her mind instead.” The Troll turned around, slowly ambling away. “Don't you dare turn your back on me, Troll!” “There he goes, Silandra, out to frame you.” Ashblood stated. “He is intent on sabotaging everything you do, all you have worked for. Will you let him get away with it?” “Shut up, both of you!” “There's only one way to stop him now.” “Shut up!” “Strike him down. Slay him.” “Go away!” “Kill him!” “No!” Laj'ral shook his head, trying not to laugh to himself. He'd always suspected that Silandra wasn't all right in the head, but this confirmed his suspicions beyond a shadow of doubt. Standing there in the middle of Icecrown, arguing with herself... he couldn't wait to get back to Bowen and tell her all about it. He knew what would happen; Silandra would be ridiculed and forced out of the Guild; then he could move in and take Bowen's favour. And, from there, he could go onto greater things. Bowen and the raiders were but a stepping stone for him, one that he would gladly use and discard when the time was right. Form behind, he heard the clanking of metal and the fall of fast footsteps. Glancing back, he could see Silandra running after him. Probably coming to beg him not to go back to Bowen, not to tell her of what he had seen here. It wouldn't make any difference. He turned back, ignoring the Blood Elf. There was a sudden sharp pain in his back, accompanied by a tearing of metal and a snapping of bone. He stopped dead, fixed in place as the blade punched through him, running through his body and tearing out of his chest. Looking down, he briefly saw the tip of Silandra's blade protruding form his breastplate before it was withdrawn. He glanced back, seeing Silandra standing over him, her Blood Knight tabard flapping in the cold wind while blood dripped off the length of her greatsword. “What...” He gasped out as he collapsed to his knees. “What ya be doin', ya witch?” She offered him no reply; the last thing he saw before he collapsed and all went dark was her impassive face, looking down at him. Ashblood turned back to Silandra, a twisted grin on her face. Her runeblade was slick with the Troll's blood, the runes glowing with unholy power. “What have you done?” Silandra asked, her eyes glaring at the Death Knight. “What you didn't have the courage to do.” “But why kill him?” She continued. “You said he was your puppet-” “One who had outlived his usefulness.” Ashblood explained. “He had failed in his mission and, as such, was no longer needed. So I killed him. Because I could.” “You monster” “Am I?” Ashblood sneered. “I'm not the one who associates with Trolls, or other such lower forms of life, like Orcs or Tauren. I'm not the one taking orders from a Tauren, for that matter. How can you stand there and criticiase me, knowing full well that you will return to your Tauren leader?” “I am loyalt to my people-” “-lackeys of the Orcs-” “-and the Horde!” “-Lead by an Orc.” Ashblood finished, a confident tone in her voice. “Again, Silandra, I have defeated you.” “I will destroy you.” She snarled. “And yet, so far you have failed every time. Instead, you have left a trail of dead bodies behind you.” Ahsblood looked her in the eye. “First Blackrock, then Hellfire Citadel, then Achidoun, now here. How many more will die before you yield, Silandra?” Her mouth twisted into a wicked grin. “Maybe I should start killing your fellow Sin'dorei, Silandra. Mabybe that will give you an incentive.” “Nothing will stop me.” “Very well then.” Ashblood swept out with her hand, a shadowy archway appearing in the air behind her. “For now, I leave you, Silandra. If you really want to destroy me, then you will come to the heart of Icecrown and face me there.” “I will hunt you, no matter where you go.” “I thought so.” Ahsblood finished. “Very well. But when next we meet, it will be on my home ground, where I will hold the power. What you have seen so far is nothing beofre my full might. Face me there, if you have the courage.” She stepped through the archway, vanishing into nothingness. Silandra simply stood there, glaring at the archway, and then the space it had occupied after it vanished. “I will never yield to you. Do what you want, go where you want, kill who you want. I will never surrender to you!” She simply stood there, staring at empty air, anger and determination on her face. However, at the same time, deep inside her, the vision still persisted. A lone figure stood in the center of a devastated battlefield, standing atop a mountain of dead bodies. Its They were clad in blood-red armour, its design unfamiliar and yet clearly intimidating; large spikes adorned the shoulder, while heavy metal buckles secured its frame. The figure wore no helm, however, their face was obscured in the smoke and darkness. In one hand, they carried a massive sword, its blade adorned with alien runes. The figure turned, staring at some unseen observer, otherworldly blue eyes glaring through the smoke. The rest of their face, however, was far more familiar to her. It was her own.
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