Daijuji Kuzaku
Kuzaku stood behind the counter, taking potshots at gunmen when opportunities presented themselves, generaly providing firing support to his allies in the thick of battle. However, the fighting soon enough died down, and their sword-wielding leader retreated. Kuzaku breathed a heavy sigh of relief, he wasn't sure how much longer he was going to be able to keep that up. Even so, he still had his pride as a knight, and he couldn't seem weak in front of his allies. He dispelled Cthugha and Ithaqua and wiped the sweat from his brow. Standing up straight, he strode out from behind cover, and over to his celebrating allies.
"Pardon me, ladies, but I feel we have greater priorities than celebrating at the moment. These people need medical attention." He said, gesturing to the scores of slain or wounded enemies and civilians.
Yes, there were greater priorities. Once those most gravely wounded were tended to, he could seek help regarding his visions. The red haunted him, and the taste of blood still lingered in his mouth. Blood. Endless blood. Whose blood was it that would be spilled? Kuzaku paled at the thought, his knees weakening in trepidation.
---
Inescapable.
That was what it had become.
Trying to run as far as she could had not worked.
Trying to fly away had not worked.
Inescapable.
Darkness.
Darkness without end.
All-consuming.
Inescapable.
Darkness.
深
闇
深
闇
深
闇
深
闇
KISS-SHOT ETERNITY: 02
A small girl emerged from the ominous coffin that they had found at the bottom of the pit. Unexpected to say the least, but Kiss-Shot knew well enough not to judge by appearances. Surely enough, this was the origin of that unmistakable source of power. She could only wonder what manner of being this was. She looked human, but in every other sense was something unknown. Whatever this was, Kiss-Shot didn't much care for it. Not that it unnerved her, she was too powerful for mere unknowns to bother her, it merely annoyed her that she still had no idea what was going on.
Still, Kiss-Shot responded to the girl's query in a haughty voice, "What is thy
bedroom doing at the bottom of a
pit?"
---
Giorno Giovanna & Polnareff, Shadow Eternity Headquarters
Deep within the labyrinthine complex that was the base of operations for the Shadow Eternity, a young man went about the many tasks entrusted to him. Compared to the otherwise gloomy facility, his chamber was serene and beautiful. A fragrance of flowers and sea breeze filled the room,
classic music played softly, and the aesthetics of the antique wooden furniture and tasteful art put one's soul at ease. At the heart of the room, a young man of golden hair sat at rich, mahogany desk, his numerous attendants fluttering about him. His attention turned from one to the other, speaking softly and calmly, his expression as soft as that of a young boy speaking with his mother. A turtle, adorned with a strange golden key sat on his desk, patiently eating fruit from a china plate.
A sword-wielding woman entered the room, and the young man's attendants fell silent at the sight of her; averting their gaze seemingly out of shame. Giorno paid them no mind, finishing whatever business he had with the man who had just been speaking to him. "Make it so. I want reliable people, people who aren't going to be carried away. We're not murderers, in spite of what this UMMA thinks." Turning to the woman as though he had just noticed her, he gestured to the chair in front of his desk. "Please, sit down." Looking back to the other men, he simply said, "Leave us," and they promptly vacated the room.
Giorno leaned back in his chair, eyeing the woman in front of him coolly. "I'm already aware of what transpired in Yggdrasil today. Your lack of control of your subordinates has brought shame to this organization. It has brought shame to me. My heart breaks at the thought of the innocent lives lost today." Despite his apparent sympathy, no trace of any unpleasant emotion could be found in Giorno's face or voice. "It was wise of you to leave your underlings for dead in Yggdrasil. I might have thought to kill them myself." He stood, plucking a rose from a nearby vase and holding it to his nose as he looked to a nearby painting. "We are not a business,
signorina, we are a family. And a family forgives. This slight will be overlooked, but you will be in my debt. I may forgive, but I do not forget." He walked over to the swordswoman, placing the flower in her hair. "I am a patient man, but do not test my patience. You will come to regret it. You may leave."
As the swordswoman left, Giorno returned to his seat, looking over some paperwork that he had been handed earlier. The turtle, having finished its fruit, looked at him with its dull eyes. A disembodied voice sounded from the turtle,
"Don Giovanna, why do we work with these people? These criminals and fiends? They have no honor, no respect."
Giorno sighed and looked away from his paperwork, back to the vase of roses. "It's a means to an end, my friend. Nothing comes free in this world. Especially not dreams."