( warrior she is, and warrior she will remain, first and foremost.
it was amon who inspired her bloodlust always, and yet now she is
forced to turn that same horrific passion on his own form—no, not his
form. no longer is this her love, but some pathetic insect, some mortal
thief masquerading as the demon who had stolen her heart. it sickens
her, calls forth red to tint her vision when she thinks on it, when she
sees this mere human, this akira fudou, this devilman.
sirene has never been one to worry on recovery. what was done was
done, and if sirene could not have amon, no one could.
amusement, but she dreads fighting amon’s might in any form. )
if only there were some way to steal back what had been taken, but
lofted high above him, however, she pauses. perhaps out of
❝ If you’re going to beg mercy, insect, it won’t work, ❞ ( she warns. )
often, the demons look upon his mighty form with scorn, but never
hatred. for amon was too good of a soldier, too legendary among the
ranks of generals; and as much as they hated to admit it, akira fudou
was no waste of a man. together, he and amon could rip apart legions
of armies single-handed if he so wished--and like that of a fallen deity,
akira has indeed incorporated amon's might into his slaying.
(as if he, the created savior, the messiah, could ever claim a throne
so holy with his tainted hands--)
sirene, however, has no qualms of seething at the devilman. she looks
to him with pure rage, as if hell and all its sins itself had risen to life in
the form of the warrior before him. in response to her insult, he whom
still clings to the title of man and not beast bares his teeth at her with a
resounding roar.
"you vile, wretched beast. you dare to mock me? test me?" thick hands
that have grown accustomed to taking life away clench tight. akira stands
even taller. "you, of all beings, should know the limits of my patience."
they encircle one another with slow, predator-like gaits. this is the only
moment in time that they will love--nay, it is not the love that most on
earth know--it is the hesitation that lingers between the two, the indesc-
ribable fear that keeps their hearts beating in tandem. "i dare you to strike."
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