A heart with a simple desire, a demon continuously seeking after it. Her wish towards it, patiently waiting on her old friend to finalize the arrangements. The Iconoclast's growing unrest, trying her best to stifle her movements.
One suffering for many years, enduring a curse since her birth. Refusing to acknowledge it, feverishly reaching after what is within. Her choice to become the true enemy, yet giving infinite possibilities onto others.
These countless swirling emotions, an individual able to link others together. Her actions through the Eternal Night, relating to the pain of others. Accepting her sins, embracing what is inside.
Crushing her opponents, doing so with others, carrying their will. These precious lives coming to her aid, diving into the abyss, shining their light on her road. Showing her a way out, their kind hands to her.
A devil finding herself on the throne in the heavens, leading others below from a different world. A place connecting through chains, the many floating platforms. A tall ancient gate, its old symbols brightly burning.
Passing along this range, the realm of the gods and home to the angels in view. Asgard steadily making its way back to its glory days, their appreciation for their leader. Originally hostile to the young woman, believing in the end.
Those learning about her, experiencing her gentle heart, watching her sincere efforts. Their home slowly returning to its glory, bringing more into their tiny world, expanding its range in bliss. The habitants fondly admiring her, understanding more over time.
In the back, a palace stretching tall. A labyrinth below, the garden in a wonderful state. Statues of friends, many close to the Iconoclast. Levi the leviathan by a lake, sleeping underneath the sun.
From inside, within the throne room. The Iconoclast clad in gold, wearing a noble-crimson cape on the lower half of her back. At the end of her long blonde hair, a red ribbon holding it in place.
Her crimson eyes on the different races in this area, those voicing their concerns to her. At the side of her seat, her old friend standing there, wearing armor reflecting his beliefs.
"I understand your concerns, but Elrich Velzar is my problem." Folding her arms.
"Yes, but without you, Asgard will surely fall if something happens!" a giant's insistence.
"Whether I am here or not, Asgard will prosper, you have saw to it yourselves." Resting her hand on her chair handle.
"You say it like...you are planning to leave us..." An angel lowering his head.
A young woman taking up a job, guiding those in the heavens back to their glory. Her many efforts, linking countless together. A leadership surpassing the All-Father, bringing bliss to innumerable.
Each wishing to protect her, wanting her to stay with them. Her gentle smile to them, appreciating these lives. The devil thinking back, seeing them come a long way. Putting her faith in them, believing in their possibilities.
"Never forget, I am an enemy. I should not even be on this throne, I only took up this position temporarily. It will not be long before I descend to the world of the mortals to live a simple life." Her soft voice to them.
"But...there is no one else better! I thought you said we'd be like family!" an Elven woman swinging out her arm.
"Just because I am leaving, it does not mean I will abandon you. Family might go far, but we will always be linked together no matter the distance." Cyra's hand to her chest.
Her message to them, their slightly easing hearts. Wishing for her to remain, not wanting anyone else in the position. Understanding her wish, her sincere words to them. The young woman rising from her seat, her eyes on the many in the room.
Valor slightly looking away, his hand behind his head. A devil able to bind others together, wrapping them in her warmth. An approaching time, his wish to fulfill her deepest desire.
"I plan to put down my weapons as much as I can. As you know, fighting isn't really for me. No matter, I will come to your aid if the need reaches high enough." Her hand on her waist.
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"You'll make Iris sad you know..." A male vanir sadly looking down.
"I am aware, it will be hard on the both of us. No matter, we have been like sisters. Even with the new situation, this won't change." The demon's slight grin.
A soft heart embracing in this bliss, many wishing for her to stay. Her desire to soar free, yearning to live a simple existence below. Those in the room shortly settling themselves, agreeing on her path. Valor watching them, faintly smiling. That devil making her choice, keeping these lives close to her heart.
The soon opening door, everyone's attention to Fernandez racing in. A confusing situation to them, the animal handing a letter to the Iconoclast. Opening it, the young woman reading it. A chilling message, her stern expression. Valor walking up behind her, his vision on the shocking development.
"This might cause another war, but we cannot leave them behind. Elrich Velzar will have to be put on hold for now." Cyra glancing to her partner.
"I agree." His vision to the Iconoclast, folding his arms.
Allies from the past, the young woman fighting alongside them. Their efforts through the dusk, sharing bliss in the horror. These people coming into her life, showing her the way out of her sorrow. Not allowing them to suffer, wishing to give back to their kindness. Irreplaceable friends to her, those kind hearts in the past from the Eternal Night.
"Just like how they were there for us, we'll do the same." Valor's faint smile on the young woman.
Returning a similar grin to him, her firm decision to go forward. These people to her heart, choosing to fly along with them. Some troubles with her, wondering on the extent of the damage.
A concerning situation, unable to directly assist them. Her increasing sentiments, these powerfully gripping feelings. The young woman shortly facing her allies, giving them specific jobs. Each complying, soon heading out.
A race against the clock, companions below needing aid. A heart wishing to give it, shortly returning to the world of Midgard. A realm of misery and war, yet hope existing in its anguish. Lives continuously persisting, carving their way forward.
The Iconoclast stepping into a town in shambles, the people suffering from the effects of the previous war. The buildings and roads in a poor state, a foul stench in the air.
Many souls crying out, a great suppression on them. Imperials taking men, women, and children alike. Shackling them in cages, transporting them elsewhere. A rapid amount of chaos, disbelief from Cyra, Valor, and Fernandez.
A place once filling with life, everything slipping away in an instant. The tormenting cries from the living and the dead, these echoing voices in the devil. The Iconoclast's hand to her chin, her stern expression.
"No doubt the last war left them vulnerable, but to think it was this bad..." The demon lowering her head.
"Damn...I thought maybe we can pull strings from the shadows. Though, this level, if we interfere directly..." Valor's frustratingly shaking fists.
An entity observing those below, keeping her interference minimal. Allowing each to pave their own way, limiting interactions to a certain level. Her suspicion on the level of damage, that increasing unrest in her heart. These precious people to her heart, an individual wishing to do more for them. Thinking through scenarios, the young woman steadily linking a line.
"We will blend in as mercenaries. However, we will need the remaining knights to fight. This should create enough of a cover for us to do our part." Cyra folding her arms.
"You're here...!" a familiar voice in relief to the devil.
A kingdom in trouble, their silence about the occurrence. The plea from one below, a friendship forming between those from different worlds. Trusting in the young woman, believing in her possibilities. Betting everything on old allies, the devil wishing to give aid.
Those three facing the individual, seeing princess Anya. Her rosy hair shielding with a hood, those red eyes of hers. Her clothing a bit dirty, someone dressing more common to avoid some detection.
"Anya, I know this happened due to the assistance from this kingdom. However, there might be something else." Valor's unease.
"Right, we were in a critical state. From what I can gather, a strange mage with extraordinary powers got our true condition to our enemies. And now, this happened. With Raphael gone, it created a direct path for the east to invade us." Her dreadful voice, sadly gripping her arms.
"A mage with extraordinary powers, I wonder...could it be Elrich Velzar? At a time like this...he must be stalling." Cyra's hand to her chin, her sharp vision.
"I think that was his name. What do you mean, stalling?" Anya's hand to her chest.
"Cyra was about to head out and put an end to him. He probably needs more time to complete whatever he is doing, clever really." The deity propping his arms behind his head.
A mage running towards his goal, his actions before moving her hand. Someone needing a bit more time, putting into place a method to gain it. The young woman thinking on these patterns, his messages over time.
A mistake from her, allowing him to come this far. Fernandez looking around, seeing more people, captors leading them away in chains. The demon's mind on the possibilities, a person trying to connect a link.
"Anya, tell me...are there anymore knights? We have to keep our interference at a low." Cyra's hand on her waist.
"Many were massacred. To save the remaining few, Lance took them afar in hopes of rallying a defense from anyone nearby." Anya lowering her head.
A vulnerable place, the Prince's effort to gain allies. Taking his chance, heading elsewhere to gather a force. Leaving behind everything, painfully doing so to protect his home. This dire situation, the young woman's unease.
Her racing mind, these allies from the Eternal Night. Her resolve within, wishing to do something more for them. Shortly deciding on her path, Valor and Fernandez looking to her, awaiting her order. Anya's vision to the demon, her pleading vision them.