Always surrendering your heart to darkness; cold as ice, your eyes they mirror the actions of your soul.
So blue, yet always so cold.
I always thought I knew what I was doing, fighting the Demons who attacked me while I searched for my family, searched for them across the Tri-Realms and the Nether Realm, struggling to find them before the madness consumes me.
Now, I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
Can you call this a living? Killing other creatures just because we see this world, this world not even painted in black and white, in two different retrospects. We're playing the hand we're dealt; both lying within the darkness, both of us embracing it within our hearts. But he's the enemy to my world, and cut him down I must, before the same is done to me.
This is such a cruel, cruel world.
This ice, this pale blue ice that coats my hands more and more every time I use my blade, every time I touch another living soul, shall it eventually succeed in its goal to drive me to madness?
Will I let it?
They say they can save, me, but how do I know if that's true or not? People are either enemies or traitors, and associating yourself with them is only giving them a change to kill you.
Trust... what an odd word. I trusted these five... and they trusted me to protect them. Does our age even matter? We seem like teenagers to this Human world and yet the Universe - our father - has tied us into this war. Though he may have been the oldest and naturally should have protected us, it is I who, in the end, is the strongest between the six of us, and I only hope we can make it through this ordeal as a family.
Live as a family, die as a family.
You're such a paradox... you all are. Especially you, Al, I think mostly to myself, gasping for breath as I clutch my left arm in pain with my right hand, the silver blood pouring between my fingers and sliding down my arm, running onto the fingers on my left hand still numbly clutching the grip of my sword, my eyes gliding over their fallen forms, looking dead. You say that you cannot afford to lose this battle, for the sake of the Humans... but you are already giving up on yourself. Is that not like giving up on the world? Our clones sneer at me as I look up at them, gasping for breath.
The grip of Isa, my blade created from the ice upon the Universal Realm and forged in the Damned Pool of the Demon Realm, slips from my fingers as My legs are unable to support me anymore, my eyes closing as I fall to the ground, falling victim to my wounds.
Can you not manage to save the one you desire to protect the most?
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