@spolymorpha ⎛ event s.c. ⎠
he cannot fly. there is no light here, only the pale reflection of the moonlight. mael hadn't felt like this for quite some time. clipped wings and defenseless- but he's not. not really.
the blaring alarms were unfamiliar, in fact the entire situation felt more than bizarre. metal walls and doors and hallways flooded with crimson. he heard the voices of others, and they said this: run. it's all anyone can do.
⎛ suddenly, he is acutely aware of what those members of the demon clan must've felt like; cornered by goddess lance corporals, staring into the eyes of the angel of death. he understands why gowther did this to him, left his soul torn and twisted. this is an agony that he has earned by his own bloodied hands. ⎠
there are strange metal beings, like hollow armor, that walk the crimson-lit halls. they copy the people they see, and they kill them. mael does what he can to stay out of sight. it's not easy, with those massive wings and his height; his pale hair reflecting the moonlight. one of the empty armors turns to him and he tenses, finds that there is no light that he can reach. isn't that terrifying?
there are footsteps. they do not belong to the empty armors. there is life here- and mael turns. ❝ you - ❞ he no longer knows how to trust, but he needs to. ❝ we must find a way out of here. will you join me? perhaps our odds are better if we are not on our own. ❞
