continued from x with @prince-demando
The smallest of the four generals of Crystal Tokyo looked down at the kneeling, sobbing prince. Prince. Heh. He looked little like someone fitting that title. The muscled redhead that Nephrite held subdued with a blade to his throat was more princely. The incapacitated woman in a pool of blood from a superficial wound was more a princess. This man? This begging, white-haired man with tear-filled eyes? No.
Zoisite’s gaze was impassive as he stepped towards the so-called Prince and knelt down. The gloved hand grabbed the hilt of the sword - Kunzite’s - through Demando’s legs and pulled it out with a single, deft movement. It would make the wounds bigger, but did he care? What chances did this man have of escaping the palace alive?
When the four of them were reinstated as generals - an act with no ceremony, held in the King’s office as they were informed of the sheer threat to the people that the Black Moon siblings held - there was always the understanding of what that meant. The last time this band of brothers held this title, they had all but ended the world.
Four generals, four horsemen. An apocalypse would come to someone.
“Why?” Slender, white-gloved fingers wiped the blood from the silver blade, staining the kidskin crimson before offering Kunzite his sword.
“Surely you know that a threat is not passively dealt with, let alone three of them.”
