Of demons and angels. . .
I have felt the forces stir under my feet and I have felt the cry on the Earth's breath as I sat at the ballista tower to watch the world below. Trees moved in time with each breath. With this peace, there is a stirring underneath that most will miss completely. I shan't get involved this time. I can't. I have received a message from the God's that I can't get directly involved anymore. I have yet to know why.
I sense a stirring of demons and angels. I have heard the cries of the spirits calling for help, and I ache because I can't do a thing to help. Is this my new fate? To watch helplessly as people die? I have done this before but that was before my soul was released from it's prison of darkness and misguided ideals. It takes a fraction of a second for a bullet to break the skin and claim a life and yet, I can only observe and watch the outcome from afar. The ones that I have allied with, friends, I suppose, will have to fight this battle without me. This is a crucial juncture with me. I have never felt so torn since the Oricalcos claimed my soul for the first time, guiding me to destroy humanity.
I have seen the future that awaits and I dare not repeat what I have seen. I hope that I am wrong. I bow my head, not out of shame, but out of pain. I sense that the troubles that lie ahead are just a starting point for something far more sinister that lies in the wings.