Hearts embracing in the freedom of the wind, sorrow lingering at the depths of one. Pushing through the harshest of tides, resisting the reason of others. Hatred brewing at her depths, despair clawing away at her. Loneliness over the years, torment never leaving. Born underneath the light of the crimson moon, rising to the challenges at hand. Entering into a camp, bearing witness to such atrocities. Emotions boiling at her depths, anger gripping at her heart. Extending her hand to a small one, returning his will towards him. Argent resting his vision onward in confusion, following behind the young woman. A strange duo those friends are, but most welcoming no less. Surviving so long on his own, pleasantry of appreciation.

"How long have you been here?" Cyra glancing back to Argent.

"A year..." Argent looking away.

A realm of lawlessness, strength guiding the way. Powerlessness over the years, another dictating her life. Desperation coming at hand, reaching for the smallest chance. Will no longer of her own, agony incomparable. Understanding of those actions, terrible it is. A year surviving on his own, conditions of reprehensibility. Holding resentment in her experience, desiring for others not enduring the same. That deity unable in understanding this monstrosity, an answer eluding him. War paving the path, kidnapping of children. Influences around the NetherWorld, a connecting point. No matter so, little sense it is making.

"Your parents, are they dead?" Valor positioning his arms in a thinking posture.

"Yeah...they killed them, and took me away..."

Selfishness guiding the way, actions knowing no limit. A realm of lawlessness, stripping away the happiness of those so young. Pain tormenting the soul, agony never leaving. Enforcing power over another, this livelihood of devils. Cruelty constantly in existence, strength of the deciding factor. Suffering through this madness, that child pointing in the direction of their captor. Those companions resting their vision ahead, a gate stretching around. A system with two benefits, safety of themselves, and keeping those children in check. Standing still, Cyra extending her hand.

Valor and Argent ceasing their movements, turning their attention towards her. That deity positioning his arms in a thinking posture, Cyra glancing back to him, both nodding in agreement. Desires deep within, emotions guiding the way. One desiring for times of yore, coming across a small one. Extending her hand, one once being a mother. Connection in times of horribleness, that faintest light leading her onward. No matter of her despair, her child of appreciation. Walking towards the gate, standing in front of it. Observing its defenses, that child knowing of the danger, the boy stepping forward.

"Be-careful ma'am..." He warns.

Dreams of fleetingness, desiring a way towards freedom. Cruelty existing, screaming never reaching. Treading through the deepest of abyss, those continuously oppressing others. Hatred residing at the depths, a heart in bondage. Will no longer of one's own, agonizing it is. Emotions throughout time, despair gripping at the soul. Personal it is, anger rising to the surface. That devil glancing back, taking his words into consideration. Resting her vision onward, extending her hand to the handle. Sparks emitting, repelling her touch. Her expression slightly grim, reason for those children unable in escaping. Breaking their will, turning them into monsters.

"This is to keep us out." Argent frowning.

"Clever, but not clever enough." Reaching her hand back, positioning it upon the hilt of her sword.

Blackness plaguing the heart, those committing atrocities. Limitation not in place, enslaving the lives of others. Youth never having another way, desperation for their own existence. Mistreating others, weapons constantly on their backs. Flowing blades of grass, the stench of death and decay lingering within the air. That warmth of the sun shining down, freedom residing in the wind. Valor shrugging, well in awareness on what is to come. An alarm no doubt linking to the gate, one option remaining, breaking through towards those of monstrosity. Eyes of certainty, that blood of the young woman boiling.

"Children wouldn't think to go in after a shock or two." Valor folding his arms.

"Exactly." Cyra agreeing.

Chains binding the heart, a soul unable in soaring. One once filling with love, hatred consuming her. Memories never leaving, torment eternally branding upon her. Standing at the top in days of yore, falling so far. Loathing the battlefield, necessity in taking up arms. None ever hearing her voice, feelings forcing through. Raising Lævateinn high, negativity intensely spiraling around the weapon. Malevolence pulsating by the moment, the maiden striking down on the gate, unleashing that force. Darkness tearing through, shredding the surrounding area, immediately sounding the alarm. rubble flying in each direction, pieces of land scattering around, that assault extending far and wide.

"Maybe I should have frozen that gate..." Valor scratching the back of his head with his right hand.

"Perhaps so, but I want them to come, the time for judgment is at hand." She calmly walks onward.

Two from differing times, one from days of joy, another treading through the deepest of abyss. Pushing through her sorrows, hatred guiding her way. Powerlessness leading her path, that will in grasping even more strength. Aspiring in ascending, pursuing those desires far within. Wishing for times of the past, following the faintest light. Despising those taking away the bliss of children, small ones having no purpose in this madness. Judgment coming at hand, her own method in going forward. One concerning herself with her problems, yet this atrocity driving her onward. That young woman once of a mother, a certain connection at hand.

"I gotta seriously remember to get you some anger management classes..." Valor folding his arms, following behind.

Difficult it is in seeing this, that old friend of his so different. A smile no longer of existence, anger deep within. In awareness on her pain, yet uncertainty on a solution. Staining her soul in corruption, unlocking powers from the deepest of abyss. Returning to the surface, rising to the challenge once again. Hatred guiding her way, a heart resisting the shackles binding it. That soul desiring to soar, incapability of doing so. Argent trailing along, confusion within the child, an occurrence of normalcy no less. At that moment, high above the worlds, a realm far from the rest. Floating platforms connecting through chains, an ancient gate stretching tall, symbols burning upon it.

Throne of the gods, and home to the angels. A place none can easily access, a way of separating from those of the land. Many angels scattering around the area, some suffering beyond recognition. A bloodbath it is, the air staining in a sickening stench. Those gods resting their vision onward, that Tyrant standing before them. Strict his vision is, one never a good father, maybe even less so a husband. A calamity years prior, one incapable of reaching. From high above, out of sight, Victor floating. Folding his arms, bearing witness to this development. Brutality upon numerous, blood staining the air.

"To think you could make it this far, I am impressed." Uneasiness from Ares' tone.

Pushing beyond his limitation in times of the past, ascending to a realm far above his own. Two of differing worlds, understanding of one another. Suffering defeat, losing his grip. That guiding hand reaching out, grabbing hold of his own. Eyes connecting with the other, adventure coming. Days of joy it has been, a small one coming about. His life falling apart, despair consuming him. Turning his vision to his left, Freya descending to his side. Moving his attention to his right, Chronos on the other end. Malevolence intensifying from the Tyrant, keeping them at bay. Facing ahead, those eyes upon Ares.

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"I am still a father first, and a demon second. Now I am going to be needing some answers." He calmly speaks.

Stories of the invincible Tyrant, Victor knowing of them, a demon capable of the highest feats. Breaking into a realm far above his own, none knowing of the outcome. Achievements evermore extraordinary, this crushing pressure. Slightly tense his expression is, that angel observing the situation. Answers residing amongst these lot, a way in giving back to Cyra. Death not enough, a devil returning even stronger. One reflecting the resolve of her father, pushing the boundaries. Purpose of the Tyrant not of awareness, Reynas' demise moving him off of the field. Stepping upon the board once again, his role of a father coming first.

"You mean why we are trying to initiate Ragnarök?" Freya questions.

"Precisely, now answer." He impatiently glances to the goddess.

Twilight of the gods, a war tearing through the Nine Worlds. Conflict of a single realm stretching into numerous, three points in connection, efforts in purging devils. One continuously rising, opposing the reason of others. A soul shackling to the land, that heart trying to maintain itself. Hatred guiding the way, one possessing frightening potential. Efforts drawing the attention of deities, innumerable raining down their judgment. Death not enough, that maiden returning into the living. Power growing even more, emotions feverishly igniting. Madness of a solution, one standing supreme in the end. Previous occurrences of the past, despair striking countless.

"Even if we tell you, you won't be able to stop it. Specifically, our original goal was to cleanse the NetherWorld of its demons. Though, now it would seem that your daughter is of the only one of necessity to be purged." Artemis explains.

"My daughter?" tension rising within him.

Bearing witness to this scene, Victor slightly scowling in some unease. Clashing against that young woman, defeat at the hands of the devil. No matter so, one sparing his life, returning his will. A debt no less, those so high never ceasing. Angels descending, massacring many. That heart of kindness reaching out to him, despair deep within her. Ascending to heights far above her own, combatting her old friend, her memories returning. Unsettling wind, that Tyrant trying to rationalize the approach of those gods. Little sense it is making, his child doing nothing to warrant extreme actions. Suffering throughout her years, that young woman born underneath the light of the crimson moon. A curse of an existence, conflict eternally upon her.

"How long do you intend to hide that abomination?" Odin glaring.

Standing silent, that expression of the Tyrant serious upon the deity. Those of differing worlds, a bond forming between two. One rising to the highest of heavens, challenging a goddess. Defeat coming at hand, that devil falling to the land. Her guiding hand reaching out, stopping his descent. Eyes meeting with the other, a gentle smile in his direction. An adventure coming along, feelings developing over the passing time. Settling down, a daughter entering into reality. Holding those experiences most dear, Alastor carefully connecting the points. One in awareness on her birth mother, Reynas wishing for none in knowing this. Everything aligning, the reason for turmoil upon his family.

"Half devil, half deity, she stands as a threat to the stability of the Nine Worlds." Odin calmly explaining.

Floating forward a bit, Victor's vision slightly widening. An abomination of a birth, one carrying the blood of a divine and that of a devil. Potential hiding away, danger unscalable. An atrocity she is, yet that gentle heart. One not ending his life, returning his freedom. An action most of worth, that angel understanding more. His view not changing, owing the young woman much. That Tyrant stepping forward, malevolence burning brighter from him. Anger greatly inside of his eyes, those gods focusing on him. That pressure intensely crushing down on them, an answer after so many years.

"You...you're the reason why Reynas sacrificed herself, to save Cyra!" harshness of his voice.

Hatred brewing at his depths, emotions rising to the surface. A life once of happiness, dread consuming him. One holding responsibility, intruding upon their joy. A devil holding one so close, never able in letting go. Continuously searching for an answer, that deity revealing it. Actions of harshness over the years, preparing his child for the cruelty of the worlds. A daughter loathing the battlefield, his solution in wedding her off. That no less of a mistake, her old friend constantly diving to the depths for her. Freya glancing towards Odin, this not surprising her. A goddess owing a certain one, remaining in the shadows. Eyes of sorrow, that birth of Cyra secluding from the knowledge of the gods.

"All is for the balance of the Nine Worlds. I must admit though, I never really thought she would give up her own life to save a halfbreed. It was a regrettable loss, but in order to move the worlds forward, sacrifices are made." Calmness of Odin.

Infuriating the deity is, intruding upon happiness. One continuously opposing Reynas, targeting their daughter. A mother desiring in rescuing her own, a Tyrant desperately pressing onward. Trying to save one so close, reaching for the smallest chance. Incapability of grabbing hold of the minuscule possibility, returning home. Final words echoing through him, his heart constantly paining. Hatred brewing at his depths, the one having responsibility residing in front of him. Freya resting her vision onward, those gods unwavering resolve.

Slightly looking down, actions of reprehensibility. Wishing for Valor's presence, that deity seeking times of the past. Times of yore, meeting one of another world. Continuously chasing after a dream, desiring to bring those pleasureful events back into reality. Difficult it is in identifying his return, that one probably never grasping those glory days again. Slightly hanging his head low, frustration within Alastor. Memories of Reynas, that smile constantly within his mind. Sadness in those last moments, a devil unable in breaking through. Her voice never leaving, that one currently being reasonable.

"Her fate has been set in stone from the very beginning. She is a cursed existence, one in which should never exist. Still, what drives her? I cannot even say for certain myself." Chronos positioning his arms in a thinking posture.

Despair deep within, hatred manifesting at her depths. A heart once filling with love, anger driving her way. Desiring for times of yore, desperately reaching for the nigh impossible. Pain eternally upon her, agony never leaving. Diving deeper into the abyss, treading a path of loneliness. That faintest light guiding her way, resolve feverishly burning. Disgust within the vision of Victor, those going so far. Unnecessary conflict, dictating the lives of others. Alastor facing away from the gods, glancing back to Freya. That goddess resting her eyes upon him, one having her reason. That demon nodding his approval, turning his attention onward. Wishing in taking the head of Odin, yet far from his peak. Hope residing with one, betting everything on a gamble. Sadness far within, a solution in mind.

"Fate is a fool's word. So long as one can breathe, they still hold their future within their hands." Alastor placing his hand upon his waist.

A lesson from his daughter, words resonating deep within. That one reminding him of himself, those earlier days. A devil reaching for the smallest chance, ascending to heights far above his own. Breaching into the realm above the gods, stepping onto the domain of a goddess. Clashing against her, that one of invincibility losing. Falling towards the land, those gentle eyes. A guiding hand extending to him, stopping his descent. That child reflecting her mother, pain agonizing upon him. No matter so, that last gift. Giving her life, saving their daughter. Those gods observing the Tyrant, one coming out of his pit. That All-Father taking caution, carefully looking onward. Another piece on the chessboard, one returning after so many years.

"What are you going to do?" Odin questions.

"Heh, you have no idea of the hell you brought down upon yourself, Odin."

Those words of the Tyrant shaking the gods, hearts at an unrest. Victor turning, fading away from sight. Answers within his possession, that devil having his interest. No less a demon having a plan, one better in place for informing his daughter. Walking onward, that devil keeping his eye on the faintest light. Treading in the deepest of abyss, fighting against the harshest of tides. Uncertainty in the ending result, a father doing his best. Cruel he may be, but one cherishing the last gift of his wife. Invoking a spell, crimson pentagrams rapidly surrounding him. Feelings at a high, hatred fueling him. A blinding light extending, that demon instantly vanishing. Those deities standing there, their vision on the battlefield.

"He certainly made a mess of things here." Chronos sighing, holding the side of his head.

"What do you think he has in mind?" Ares looking towards Odin.

"I cannot say for certain, but for now we continue with our plan." The All-Father calmly states.

A Tyrant once ascending to heights far above his own, breaching a realm above the gods. Meeting with a goddess, losing his title. A bond forming between them, bliss in the presence of the other. A heart once of blackness, opposing her reason. Simplicity in their emotions, feelings developing over the passing time. Gods intruding upon happiness, that father having a solution in mind. Freya slightly looking away, despicable actions of Odin. Conflict never having any reason in going so far, that one continuing onward. Tearing apart a family, taking the lives of the innocent, breaking the seals. All in direction towards his own desires, difficult it is in identifying his aim.