Dimensional Descent

Leonel released his arrow and it was as though the entire world was painted in black. He recalled the painting that he had seen thanks to Mo''Lexi.

He and everyone else had stood there, witnessing the tragic horror of war. The rivers of blood, the mountains of flesh. Everything seemed to be a reminder that life was too fleeting, that spending time on a battlefield wasn't glorious, but rather left tragedy in one's wake.

But there was a deeper level to this painting as well. It was one that told of determination.

It depicted the strewn-about corpses of more humans than Leonel could count. There were more dreams, more goals and aspirations, more hopes than he could ever hope to understand or fathom… all dyed in red.

There was no glory, no grand achievement waiting on the other end, there was just death and more death.

Leonel remembered how immature he had once been in the past. In that immature state, he wanted to change the world, to usher in a new order where even the weak could be protected.

As he grew strong and suffered himself, he forgot those dreams and aspirations. Even after he walked out of that shadow, he didn't return to his former self.

He had seen too much. He had done too much. Experienced too much evil and been too evil himself.

However, that day he stood before the Spirituals' Throne, he had felt something odd.

Every fiber of his being had wanted to wipe the Spirituals out down to their last man, woman, and child.

What right did they have to enjoy life while the Human Race was living on pins and needles? What right did they have to smile, to laugh, to experience joy, when it came at the cost of sacrificing everyone else?

He had wanted to uproot them all, to show them what true despair was, to force them to experience what his wife would have had their plans succeeded this time.

But in the end…

chose not

of a child was looked down upon, but on another, the words of a child were the most honest thing

for the influence of his future self, Leonel would have become a man who hated bloodshed, and who, while he

not because of victory itself, but because of the satisfaction of outmaneuvering an opponent so much

because it was so impossible that he had

thought, for a long time, that that piece of him was forever gone, that maybe…

he

being naive was sometimes the most beautiful thing in the world, but it could also become

world to establish this dream once more. He would allow

calls of horror that echoed from the Northern Star, he could see that it, too,

Families, he felt a bone-deep distaste for traitors. He could practically see the horrified gazes of the Fawkes of the path. He could see the dreams of an entire

man that shouldered it all. The man who stood tall, gathered up the

head flickered with gold, violet, and black. It grew larger and larger until it seemed as though his oppression would suffocate the world for all that it was

stop him today… because he wouldn't allow anything

SHUUUU!

BANG!

Their powers were mowed down, and without even a second to breathe, Leonel

what felt like a single blink of the eye, Shan'Rae had been considerably drained, and Leonel's side had gone from barely under a dozen to just over