Chapter 52: Chapter 14: Growing Fear(Conclusion)

 

Enemies around every corner, a will from so long ago. These emotions flowing through her, that determination to oppose what is reasoning. Even if it is but a somber morrow, a resolve forever extending. One from the deepest of abyss making their way into reality, a heart of softness, hatred growing even more. The night truly a horrifying place, that entity damning the Nine Worlds, all for those desires deep inside of her. Vulcan raising his hand, glaring down at the maiden. The target in sight, that one who is eternally the enemy. Selfishness damning those all around them, going so far, pushing the Nine Worlds to the state of ruin. Their vision meeting with the other, that will of the angel extending even further. That unsettling wind, uneasiness protruding for miles.

"Your demise has been ordered. You will no longer walk Iconoclast, that is your sentence, your execution is now at hand." His cold voice upon her.

Years upon years of endless conflict, those never knowing when to stop. Always proceeding onward, condemning her to an eternal cycle. These emotions inside of her, those many wishing for her execution. The Order of Cross moving so quickly in this endless chaos, impressive in all actuality. No matter so, that entity from the deepest of abyss resisting once again, that heart reaching out in this game of chance that is life. Gripping her blade, extending it afar, glancing at her enemies all around. Those pure white feathery wings revealing itself, expanding far and wide. That warmth, the mesmerizing light. Vulcan closely looking on, pictures depicting in legend returning to his memory.

Pure white wings in resemblance to the Nine Winged Seraph, stepping away, Vulcan's eyes trembling. An impossibility he is thinking, the Iconoclast and Nine Winged Seraph being one and the same. Madness it is, that deity they worship. Infinite in mystery the night is, slowly revealing the truth of the past. An Iconoclast, one standing as the will to oppose reason. The Nine Winged Seraph, an absolute judge in response to corruption. Contradicting it is, both of these differences working together. Even through such revelation, Vulcan strongly moving forward, directing his crimson blade at the young woman.

"Onward!" he commands.

Those numerous soldiers loudly crying out, rushing towards the maiden. Her vision upon them, darkness brightly burning from her body. Hatred boiling at her core, loathing the field of battle. Foolishness driving those enemies in her direction, sounds all around her, heightening her senses. Arrows raining down, cannons firing in her direction. Calmly standing there, malevolence shrouding her in a barrier, those assault rapidly striking at her. Everyone carefully looking on, seeing those attacks disintegrating. Crimson eyes of coldness upon her enemies, these desires inside of her wildly raging. Malevolence lashing out in every direction, tearing apart the field, blasting away countless enemies. Even so, those many continuing their advance. High in the sky, Aster, Anya, and the Queen looking on in unease.

"Anyone who goes up against her...should take extreme caution..." Aster trembling a bit.

The Queen and Anya resting their vision towards Aster, his expression of grimness. That devil knowing of the one bearing the greatest of all sins, going so far, becoming the enemy of the Nine Worlds, all for a chance in grasping what is deep within. One opposing reason, no matter how minuscule the chances are. Memories of the past, that image of the one battling through so many. Pain along every step of the way, loss incomparable, despair deep inside. That entity suffering day into day out, a heart in bondage, a soul wishing to be free. Resolve strongly pressing forward, that one taking the battle to the gods themselves.

"Extreme caution...what exactly is she...?" the Queen resting her vision down on the maiden.

That angel not moving an inch, those attacks having no effect. Darkness lashing out everywhere on the field, ripping apart the land. Cyra calmly standing there, malevolence violently building within her, overflowing to the surface. Emotions of highness, that hatred boiling even more. The foolishness of those humans, stepping on a domain even higher than the gods. No matter so, that heart battling against those countless emotions. Every step of the way becoming even harder, the young woman holding in those many feelings, that calmness slowly turning into annoyance.

"That is a good question. The best way to answer that would be...someone who knows no limit..." Aster's expression turning slightly grim.

That maiden opening her eyes, her wings expanding far and wide. Darkness lashing out in every direction, shockwaves massively ripping through the battlefield. Aster, Anya, and the Queen resisting this devastating force. Those many soldiers on their knees, Vulcan's eyes trembling at the sight, his heart desperately pounding. Her cold, yet beautiful eyes upon him, hatred burning from them. Those countless emotions overflowing, malevolence brightly burning from her. Ascending higher into the air, those many gazing upon her. Floating so high, her cold gaze upon them all. Extending her blade, that angel locking onto her numerous enemies.

Descending with speed of intensity, breaking the sound barriers all around her. Rushing through the field, devastatingly striking the area. Tearing away at the entire land, raising ridges high, fire burning from deep in the ground. Tornados crashing down upon the earth, the young woman circling the valley at an extremely fast pace, trapping it in a massive vortex. Vulcan holding his ground, watching her ascending higher into the air. Raising Reviver in her right hand, those cold eyes of the maiden resting upon the battlefield. Twirling the staff in her hand, electrical energy surging through her body, transferring to her weapon itself.

"If you think this is hell, this is simply the beginning!!!" her voice echoing through the land.

Those emotions flowing through her, malevolence wildly raging. Her voice shaking the resolve of countless, electricity intensely sparking far and wide. Motioning her weapon to the center of the valley, that angel unleashing the lightning upon her enemies. Vulcan helplessly witnessing the lightning tearing away at the valley, seeing the land rising to the air, disintegrating just as fast. The leader of Cross standing there, hope fading away. A chance not of existence, only the blackness of the night itself. Beliefs nothing more than a farce, falling to his knee, lowering his head, that maiden shattering his resolve. From deep in the land, electrical energy compressing, soon violently exploding. From high in the sky, the forces of nature crashing against Aster, Anya, and the Queen. Wind intensely hitting against them, the will of the Iconoclast reaching into reality. A presence of avoidance, a foolish order bringing madness upon Midgard.

"Aaahh!!!" the Queen and Anya struggling in the heavy wind.

Those sentiments endlessly extending, hatred continuously rising, this desire to oppose. One loathing battle more than anything, unleashing her wrath upon many. Countless hours of nonstop conflict, her heart crying out for it to simply cease. Destruction in every direction, enemies loudly screaming. Struggling against the influence, Aster trying to keep his companions in place. His efforts for naught, that devastating force blowing them afar. Malevolence, lightning, fire, many elements in combination reducing the valley to ruin, not a single life escaping the wrath of the angel. Darkness brightly burning upon the young woman, those eyes of coldness on the land. Cyra slowly descending, pure white feathers falling towards the earth. A warm light bathing the battlefield, her vision expressing no sympathy for the foolish souls suffering annihilation. From far away, Aster rising from the ground, pushing off a massive part of a platform. Holding the side of his head, a sigh escaping him, that demon standing from the ground.

"Damn fools...ughh...when she enrages, there is nothing that can stop her wrath..." He slowly looks around, his vision returning to him.

"Anya! Highness!" he desperately calls out.

Slowly looking around, resting his eyes upon the apocalyptic sight. Memories returning to his mind, that one driving the worlds to ruin. Her awakening growing closer with each passing hour. Those desires eternally branding itself upon countless, a heart loathing the battlefield. The vampire recovering from the shock of it all. The deeper she is making her way into the night, the more her abilities are returning. The seal slowly breaking, and in its place, the rebirthing of corruption itself. Even so, that chance to finally right the wrongs of the past. Even if disaster is of grandness, it is worth the effort. Aster looking to the sky, seeing Anya flying in his direction, the Queen riding upon her back.

"Aster!" that Queen waving at him in relief.

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A sigh of relief escaping him, witnessing the princess descending from above. Even through this madness, those two still having their life. Fortune in this outcome, uncertainty within the state of mind of the young woman. The chance of annihilating everyone in the area, whether they have been friend or foe. Such of little importance, lenient the outcome is in comparison to the past. Restraining herself, a possibility it is. One residing inside of the abyss, a heart yearning to be free, a soul shackling to the land. Despite it all, the will to oppose constantly taking hold. Anya landing in front of him, the Elven resting her eyes on the damage all around.

"You two okay?" Aster verifying.

"Yeah...somehow..." The Queen descending from the back of Anya.

Fortunate they are, this level of exertion, truly devastating it is. One from the deepest of abyss coming into reality, her heart desperately trying to maintain its softness. Even so, hatred boiling at the core, emotions overflowing. Anya looking around, searching for Cyra, concern in the eyes of the princess. The young woman nowhere in sight, that princess loudly squawking, attempting to draw in attention. Aster and the Queen turning in the direction of Anya, both soon looking away. Devastation around every end, life no longer in existence, a total purge. Dust blowing in the wind, parts of objects scattering everywhere on the land.

"Aster...this entire valley..."

The Queen looking around at the devastation, unable to fathom the destruction. Unreal it is appearing, but this no less of the reality. A single entity causing such destruction, one standing even above the gods themselves. Even if her awakening is not of completion, this small release turning an area into ruin. One from the deepest of abyss being so horrifying, her desires crying out for all to see. Those feelings so far inside, that hatred reflecting in the damage within each direction. Even if she is to eternally be the enemy, that will to break this endless cycle burning even stronger. To be able to return to those times of pleasure, to put down her arms, a will to resist continuously burning.

"What...is she...? What kind of angel can do this type of damage...?" that Queen looking towards Aster with depressing eyes.

A question of most expectance, no angel having the ability to do such. A will from so long ago, a heart desperately reaching out, a soul resisting its bondage. Memories within the past, a resolve pushing through, grabbing hold of the nigh impossible time and time and again. Looking away from the Queen, Anya turning her attention towards Aster, eagerness for the answer as well. That devil knowing well that her awakening has been in place since her confrontation with Hades, the seal upon her unable in suppressing her nature. That power of the Iconoclast exponentially growing, a restriction impeding her resolve. That seal not having much longer, the one from so long ago hastily returning to the surface. Cyra constantly breaking past her limitation, the destruction all around them, that damage but a mere fraction of her strength.

"What you witnessed...is the power of the Iconoclast." He sorrowfully looks into the velvet moon.

His words echoing through the Queen, her skin slowly crawling. One of legend being of the truth, remembering the words of Vulcan. That fairy tale of a reality, slowly gathering her nerves, thinking on the situation at hand. The darkness from the young woman, that devastating power, her voice so strong. One from the deepest of abyss returning into the light, emotions overflowing once again. That hatred renewing, her resolve unwavering. Even if the morrow is but a somber one, that entity never relenting. Minuscule the chances may be, but this no less enough to resist, making the nigh impossible into a reality. Anya slightly propping her head, uncertainty of the vampire's meaning. Remembering the title from earlier, but such is still not making much sense. That Queen looking upon Aster, painfulness within his eyes.

"Please...you must not tell her..." Aster pleading.

Slightly looking away, hearing the tone in the voice of the vampire. That Queen thinking on his words, wondering of his reasoning in secluding critical information from the maiden. Memories inside of the past, those feelings reaching into the current day. Wrongs within the darkest days, a heart trying to ease her back into reality. Importance of her presence on the battlefield, no matter how much she may loathe it. Despite it all, that demon giving it his best, knowing full well of how painful it will be when she is truly back. Putting together the pieces, that Queen returning her attention to the devil.

"You're...protecting her..." Realization coming over the Queen.

Marginally looking down, sorrowful the eyes of the devil are. A bond existing so long ago, pain forever extending. Words so long ago never reaching, those inactions leading to many repercussions. That smile going away, one walking eternally in the abyss, another forever following. Countless years going by, those days never returning, the reasoning for her despair coming into reality. One in times of yore ripping apart her life, that young woman ending them, even if it shall mean she will eternally be the enemy. That chance in grabbing hold of the nigh impossible, a trade most of worth. No matter her direction, that young woman always remaining an abomination. Resting her vision upon the vampire, a demon enduring much. One eternally following, even through the harshest of despair.

"A promise was made...a thousand years ago, to seal away her memories. To make the Iconoclast...and the Nine Winged Seraph a legend. Until the day she is ready to face up to the wrongs she has done onto the Nine Worlds..." Aster depressingly explaining.

That Queen and Anya standing silent, a thousand years of lying to her, hard it must be. Enduring pain day into day out. Continuing on, smiling even when there is no joy. Knowing well that the one of dearness is right there, yet only able in misleading her. Even through it all, her smile never of sincerity. Feeling the presence of someone approaching, that vampire looking to the sky. Squinting his eyes, his vision resting on a figure within the mist. The Queen and Anya noticing, both turning their attention above. Pure white feathers descending upon the land, those three seeing Cyra coming into view. That maiden landing upon the ground, her wings dispersing, leaving behind a trail of flawless feathers. A sigh escaping the Queen, holding her hand to her chest.

"I am glad you are well." The Queen smiling.

Joyfully squawking, Anya hastily circling the angel. Her heart finally settling, seeing Cyra of wellness. That young woman looking to each of them, wondering how anyone can appreciate her presence. Strangeness it in all, one starting to see that she is not alone. That even if her old friend is in the wind, she has many that will aid her through thick and thin. Calmly turning, Aster noticing a smile of faintness upon her face, that angel glancing back to him. Slightly smiling, mariginally looking away from her. Painfulness over the numerous years, but finally that time is coming around once again. To right the wrongs of the past, to put it all behind.

"Everyone...thank you. Let us go, there is no more reason to remain here." Cyra calmly walking onward.

Treading through a path of darkness, that young woman accepting her faults. Those desires, her imperfections. After all, no life is without it. Even if the worlds so shall damn her to oblivion, she shall fight against it, alongside her comrades. Aster running up beside her, those two companions chatting away with the other. That maiden finding him excitable as usual, both laughing. Her joy not of sincerity, but this no less enough in moving her onward. Anya and the Queen joining in, those lot passing along the time. A band of misfits they are, and that is fine. Even if they are from many different backgrounds, they are a family no less. Pain may be of deepness, agony incomparable, but such of management. Even if countless are aiming to silence her, those companions standing with her.

An Iconoclast...no... 'The Iconoclast,' that is who I am, and I accept this...after all, they can all come at me if they so shall wish, and I will tear them down. This heart of mine, soft it is, and this is how it will remain. These people I have come to meet, perhaps I am not completely corrupt, they are like a family. To protect them, that is what I wish for...it is strange, to feel such attachments. To be able to return to those times once again, I feel like it is truly a possibility now...