The night growing harsher, deities from above descending to the realm of mortals. An entity damning the worlds a thousand years prior, herself and the Seraph fading into legend, her soul still engraving into countless.
Her powerful resolve, yearning for her happiest days. High in the sky, passing above the clouds. Dark fragments raining down, those black feathers illuminating the land.
That death angel flying in the direction of the Dragonkins, her slightly grim expression. Feeling her other half's rise in power, the malevolence emitting from the young woman.
"Your power has grown at such an accelerated rate, Cyra. Why do you still persist in getting in my way?" Rose slightly looking away.
Her deep hatred, her other half constantly breaking past her limit. Someone pushing onward in the dusk, surpassing her foes. These boiling feelings within the death angel, her vision on the land.
Watching demons roaming the ground, fiends tearing away at anything in their path. This horrible situation, the maiden always rising, grabbing hold of the smallest chance.
"Even when this world is falling to pieces...you stand in my way. You are as persistent as Maria, that same disgusting heart." Rose scowling a bit.
A heart reflecting another, someone feverishly persisting in the dusk. Not backing down, seeking after the smallest light. Someone despising the battlefield, enduring many sorrows. That event at the start, Rose coming from the Seraph.
A way to gain her own existence, reaching after it. Crushing the young woman, that devil still pursuing her, growing stronger in the night. Memories to Rose, the death angel thinking back, feeling the coldness around her.
A wasteland in the dusk, lightning crashing down on the battlefield. Cyra racing through, evading many assaults. Countless screaming humans, the land ripping away.
The dead rising, shortly returning to nothing. Those azure eyes resting on the young woman on the earth, the field scarring with the emotions from the feuding two.
Rose descending, the maiden ceasing her movements. Rebellion in her hand, her careful eyes on the death angel. Her will within, refusing to stay quiet.
Two halves once whole, both reflecting the other. Her foe floating just above the ground, her slightly strict vision on the demon.
"Rose...this has to stop. I know you despise me, but no more of this!" Cyra pleading, her hand to her chest.
Deep sorrow from the devil, her paining heart. Her displeasure for the battlefield, her other half understanding this.
Someone unable to reside on it, yet continuously pushing forward. This great conflict, the death angel forcing onward. Reaching for her desire, this moment on her.
Facing away from the young woman, carefully thinking on her words. This warmth to her heart, concerning with the maiden. The harsh night, someone requiring a harsh lesson.
"Cyra, you can loathe battle, I do not care. However, you must be willing to do anything in order to claim what you desire." Rose glancing back to her.
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Those deeply hitting words, shortly shaking her head in refusal. A mistake bringing this madness, an eternal night around them.
Numerous losing their lives, horror around every corner. This stabbing at her heart, these displaying emotions. Rose facing the young woman, shaking her head in pity.
Flying up to the devil, grabbing her armor, raising her high. Her harshly extending electrical energy, striking the devil's body. Resisting the pain, the demon's vision on the death angel
"Cyra, look what I took from you! Your wings, your power, everything! Yet you do not want to get it back?!" her harsh voice.
"All I want, is for this madness to end..." Her sorrowful eyes.
Her soft heart, someone not for the battlefield. Rose knowing this, calming herself a bit. Setting her down on her feet, the maiden falling to her knee. Her vision on her other half, both reflecting the other.
That death angel thinking, unable to do anything more. A certain weapon in her mind, her concern with it. A nightmarish scenario on the world of the mortals, the young woman's weak resolve.
"As you know, Cyra. We are two halves of the same, Reviver is also mine. This is your last chance, stand up and fight, or lose it as well." Rose's hand on her waist.
This knowledge to the young woman, that valuable weapon. An old friend giving her the staff, this last piece. Her eyes on her other half, witnessing Rose ascending into the air.
The death angel facing away, shortly flying onward. Cyra rising to her feet, lowering her head. These emotions inside of her, her hasty heart.
Shifting her attention to the crimson moon, this pull from it. Having to push forward, moving towards its grip. Racing through the wasteland, enduring the many screaming humans.
The dead rising, soon returning to the ground. Lightning ripping away at the earth, the young woman pursuing her target high in the sky.
The death angel's encounter with her other half, her guiding sentiments. That persisting person, clashing through the night. Steadily grasping what is within, selfishly pushing onward.
This proudness in Rose, witnessing the length between that time and now. Flying faster, dark feathers raining down on the land, blanketing the area in malice. Increasing her haste, Raiser's body being the turning point in the war.
A way for her to level the playing field with the devil, her intention to do so. Two halves once whole, both reflecting the other.
At that time, in the Kingdom of the Dragonkins, Cyra and her companions residing deep in the castle. Down the hallway, those few standing in front of the throne room.
One far inside the abyss, holding onto those moments with Rose. Her willingness to take hold of her desires, withstanding her dislike for battle.
These feelings within the young woman, still believing the two can come to a common ground. Her vision on the door ahead, some doubt in her.
An individual pushing forward, embracing her sins. The Magi's on their way, this distressing situation to the maiden, her willingness to face the coming threats.
Aster's eyes to her, someone taking on the weight onto herself. Her branding experiences, an individual unable to rely on others.
A heart once helpless, still fearing those days. Her strong emotions, despair clawing away at her depths. Esther and Anya giving her a moment, allowing her to ready herself.
That Seraph behind her, folding her arms. Watching from the side, steadily seeing the return of one. These sentiments inside the maiden, feeling the will of Lucia.
"You okay?" Aster's worrying voice to her.
Making her way deeper into the night, drawing closer towards her old friend. Yearning for those joyful days, these similar emotions from the dragon of darkness.
A curse of an existence, having a companion going so far. No matter the sins, that young woman pushing forward. Selfishly persisting, her efforts long ago slowly bearing fruits.
Her hazy memories, these powerful feelings within her. More coming back to her awareness, her reason strengthening with each passing hour.
"I am well..."
Her deep emotions, hatred slowly rising inside of her. One loathing the battlefield, despising the endless conflict. Those days from the past coming closer to a reality, that person from the abyss reaching out her hand once again, trying to grasp what is within.
The maiden looking down, shortly turning her attention to the door. Extending her hands, pushing open the way. Distantly gazing onward, reflecting on her past.