I have lost faith in us as a collective. In this war that we face during this moment in time – all has inevitably begun to crumble before us. We have lost in this battle, and not only this war – but countless lives that once stood at the sides of the pure shadows have now been washing away with the echoes. It is in this time that the blackened mass that spreads it’s darkened wings across the scapes of this place whisper words of truer hollow, darker hollows. A place within a separate moment in time that has forever longed for me to become what I have always felt to me, a place that yearns for the fall to not be solely discovered again – but in fact to take place again. I know that with this very loss that stands before me now, the fall must always have been part of the process. For while I have staggered, and while I have stumbled – I have never truly fallen throughout this all.
“This is the fallout.” It hisses to me as a winded black mass strips away the rusted and worn stainless steel from my hand. I can see the blade spinning and turning, much like my mind, in an chaotic fashion before finally piercing it’s way into the muddled ground below. My weapons are no longer required in this war I have been waging all this time, for now it seems as if my services are no longer needed in this place – as what remains of this army of shadows is whisked away in a shadowed breeze. “There is no saving what is left.” This mass states, as even I feel that those who once fought beside my have surely chosen their path – such as I have all those many ages ago.
I can see the violent force of shadows and echoes combined ravaging their way across the lands now, I can see it all beginning to cave in, I can feel what was left of love and hope begin to fade rapidly as the sister moon from above beckons with a sort of sadness, but also acceptance. I can begin to feel the weight on my chest getting stronger and stronger – for my once quickly beating heart from inside has also begun to slow in this moment, as it also can sense the eras beginning to fold in on themselves as soon, Fates like none other will be carried out onto this Advent and those who dwell along it’s lines like. Those who choose rapport with what will become of me during these fleeting moments will be met with the only state that is allowed to exist within these times, the state that I have always known I was destined to meet since the dawn of my time. This acceptance grows firm within me, as integrals of this mass begin to surround me slowly, drifting me off in some strange dark and barren sleep – as what remains of my dwindling sight is nothing but the rolled eyes of fallen soldiers down below, and the settling in of the cold night air.