Blurb:
Two halves once whole, malice forever staining the soul. Both reflecting one, each racing after their deepest desire. Cyra, a being from old descending. An individual embracing what is inside, clashing against her endless emotions, infinite sins branding on her. An entity traveling in the harshest sorrow, running along her dark road, reaching for the slimmest light.
"My other half...I will take on your hatred, so that you can see our feud is pointless..."
"Even if my psyche breaks, I will keep pushing, I will reclaim my happiest days..."
"I will no longer live in your shadow Maria!"
An eternal night on the worlds, someone from the deepest abyss steadily awakening once again. A great being unleashing their black soul, seeking after what is inside, bringing demise in the wake of their despair.
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Snippet:
Those crimson eyes on his own, his growing fear. An individual constantly ascending, piercing through her obstacles. One once filling with joy, a wrong eventually leading to the birth of the first Iconoclast.
A person running after her blissful days, crushing countless in her way. Someone accepting her sins, pushing onward towards her tomorrow. Darkness thickly releasing from her, her emotions on the surface. The trembling Magi's, those three truly facing the greatest of all beings.
"Even now...you fall even further, you are the embodiment of the seven sins." Balthasar's slightly shaking voice.
Her trials many years before, a devil choosing to become the Bringer of Demise. Racing down her black path, reaching for the slimmest light. The young woman glancing back, Bethlehem aiming his offhand at her.
Her vision trailing to her right, Indra following the same action. Shortly shifting her attention to Balthasar, electricity dispersing from him. The maiden stepping back, an electrical cage binding her in a prison.
The embodiment of the sins, one born underneath the crimson light. An entity once joyful, her hatred filling to the peak. Innumerable scorning her, the devil's resolve to go forward.
"Pride, Envy, Gluttony—" Balthasar's stern vision on her.
"—Lust, Wrath, Greed, and Sloth. All of it, and all for what? So that you can have that happy life you desire?" his voice turning into anger.
Forever deeply burning sins within her, someone seeking after her blissful old days. Becoming corruption itself, eventually stepping on the domain of the gods, bringing down the mightiest being. Lowering her head, her awareness on the truth.
The young woman's willingness to push onward, crushing countless underneath her feet. Her displeasure for the battlefield, yet having to force ahead. Her great pain, her steadily rising anger. The devil's vision on the Magi's, their attacks glowing brighter by the moment.
"You are right, I will not deny this—" her strict vision on Balthasar.
One embracing her imperfections and selfish desires, eternally becoming the enemy. Her enormous actions from the past, the embodiment of the seven sins. Her hazy memories, these slowly coming to the surface. Countless years going by, her emotions forever crying out.
An eternal conflict, one opposing her curse. Even if it is but a somber morrow, the maiden constantly pushing forward, making the smallest chance into an actuality. The Magi's noticing her shifting posture, the demon's hand to her chest, her calm voice on them.
"—all of this is driven on my own selfish desires. No matter how many lives I must tear down, to be able to have that again...to be able to reclaim those memories...to return to that time once more...—"
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Resting her vision on her claw, the magnification of her emotions. Darkness brightly burning from her, those crying feelings. Her malice flowing even harsher, these swirling sentiments around her. Events from the past reflecting to the present, one eternally in conflict.
Her deep hatred, her unwavering resolve. The Magi's energy shining brighter, that demon's claw closing into a fist. Her intensifying blackness, shortly swinging her talon to her side, glaring at her foes.
"—this is my choice, and I accept everything that I have done. The sins I have committed...still, all of this...it is not some work of destiny, each and every step of the way—!" pointing towards Balthasar, her voice piercing through him.
"—There has always been someone pushing me further and further away from that life! It matters not if I have to devour all of the Nine Worlds! If I shall need to do so! Then I will! Balthasar! Indra! Bethlehem! I want you to know this, when I am finished with you lot! I will devour the rest of the Magi's!"
Sentiments over time, one clashing against countless. Someone bringing forward miracles, her great anguish within. Striking the cage, shredding it to pieces, particles falling around the area.
Immense anger from her eyes, that will from old revealing in the dusk. Massive energy waves unleashing in all directions, that unrelenting demon. Raising her claw, unleashing the force from earlier. Azure wind, blazing fire, a light brilliantly shining gold.
Crashing it against the surrounding assaults, a heavy explosion tearing through the void. Smoke filling the field, the maiden soon bursting through. Grabbing Bethlehem's face with her claw, holding him high, glaring at him.
"Bethlehem!" Balthasar calling out, rushing at the maiden.
Her overflowing emotions, her hatred far within. One fighting through the night, painful events returning to her attention. Those blissful times coming closer, her will to force onward, pushing towards a brighter tomorrow.
Extending her offhand, malevolence tearing away at her arm. Its massively expanding form, shortly revealing another enormous shadowy claw of a dragon.
Her pulsing veins, darkness burning even brighter. Rebellion and Reviver crying out, sharing in her agony. Immediately aiming her offhand at Balthasar, his instantly stopping movements, his hasty heart.
"Always...time and time and again...—" lowering her head.
Her building sorrow, hatred extending from her voice. A curse from birth, her foggy memories steadily coming back. A heart in bondage, wishing for freedom.
Endless conflict throughout the years, that platform of memories radiating a gentle light. The maiden's sad eyes on the many blurry images, some becoming more clear by the moment, her deep grief.
"I am tired of this...tired of the fighting...tired of this endless conflict...—" crushing down on Bethlehem's head.
A never ending cycle, a heart forever resisting. Days from old, an entity from the heavens destroying a family of three. The growing child, someone eventually learning the truth.
Her desire for her happiest days, choosing to go for it, forcing against her fate. The screaming Magi, her intensifying grip. Indra rushing at her, surrounding her in a wall of fire.
Flames burning tall, his uneasy vision. A shadowy figure approaching, their eyes above. Her talon bursting through, instantly grabbing the god of fire's head.
"—all for what...? To play into some fate? Apologies, I command my own life, my own direction--!" pressing down on both of their skulls.
Her hatred for the battlefield, those strongly persisting desires, enduring her crushing pain. Walking down her dark path, yearning for the light at the end of the abyss.
Reaching for her joyful days, her powerfully burning will. The screaming deities, darkness ripping away at them. Horror in Balthasar, someone unable to do anything.
A mistake to target her from the beginning, her strength but a fraction from her original. That one constantly growing stronger, eternally engraving her soul into countless.
"—I will keep pushing forward! And grab hold of my desires!" her voice echoing through them.
A devil from long ago, an individual once filling with love for the worlds. Her crumbling life, living years in bondage. Eventually refusing to remain in silence, shouting her soul. Flowing fragments from her memories, tears spilling in an abyss.
The young woman crushing down on the two Magi's skulls, her intensifying malice. Spilling blood, that crimson liquid streaming from her claws. Silence in their shrills, azure and crimson energies soon floating in her palms.
Balthasar's uneasy gaze, watching the forces absorb into her body. The Magi's screams far within her, a prison inside of her. Shortly facing the last foe, her left claw reverting to normal, soon placing her first on her waist.
One walking in the farthest darkness, standing on the brink of oblivion. A person eternally resisting, her resolve reaching into reality, someone turning the tiniest chance into an actuality.
image [https://img.wattpad.com/943df03fd2ead35c7ddb795398604f69bbf0aa80/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6d4559787870754778566b6b73413d3d2d313332363439323638382e313761373430333261313736336535643132373038363534343332362e6a7067]
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