[ infinite steps back, he steps back again, his body isn't frozen in shock, no... it's the need to move away, to make distance, to survive. his eyes widen behind the mask, the sight of something so distant from what should be the truth catches his breath in his throat. whether he's awed or afraid, it's hard to say. what can be said with even his words caught in his throat —
...
infinite has lost control a long time ago.
spears shoot from the ground, impaling his legs in place so that he's unable to move. he screams from the depths of his inside, the body weeping from the pain as the energy surges through him cause unimaginable pain. it hurts, ithurtsithurtsithurts. tears pool underneath, they stain the inside of the masks' visor with wet drips, and his eyes have turned bloodshot.
he places a hand over the ruby to force its power, but nothing happens, it's usage dull and unwilling to work in this environment. no matter how many times it pulsates to try, he can feel the energy from it leaving quickly and quickly, until the overwhelming energy of their surroundings squeezes the jewel.
a bright light, a small crack wedges inside, and then with a loud shatter is where the phantom ruby falls. rather than hitting the unfamiliar ground in this void of nothingness and creation of a horrific beast. the phantom ruby disappears. still a gem of unspeakable power, it's as though it fled realizing its power cannot be properly utilized.
or maybe it's because infinite has shown fear.
where, where did it go? his hands raise to his chest in search, the holder empty. no, this can't happen to him, he's the prophet.
...
underneath the rubble, shadow can hear nothing, as though the battle above has left somewhere else. he notices broken shards fall between the cracks within the darkness, some lit, others dull. they barely glow, shadow hardly wants to move, but he's familiar with the power that emanates from them. he clicks his tongue, the taste of blood in his mouth and rather than ignore the offering he picks up one shard.
he swallows it.
another piece, he swallows that too.
another, and another, and another — they drag against his tongue, cut against his throat. the pieces of the phantom ruby is an entirely different power from what he's usually working with, but between this and a chaos emerald that's barely holding onto anything.
he has to.
blood spurts from his body when he moves, he devours as though he has an endless hunger. ]
no subject
...
infinite has lost control a long time ago.
spears shoot from the ground, impaling his legs in place so that he's unable to move. he screams from the depths of his inside, the body weeping from the pain as the energy surges through him cause unimaginable pain. it hurts, ithurtsithurtsithurts. tears pool underneath, they stain the inside of the masks' visor with wet drips, and his eyes have turned bloodshot.
he places a hand over the ruby to force its power, but nothing happens, it's usage dull and unwilling to work in this environment. no matter how many times it pulsates to try, he can feel the energy from it leaving quickly and quickly, until the overwhelming energy of their surroundings squeezes the jewel.
a bright light, a small crack wedges inside, and then with a loud shatter is where the phantom ruby falls. rather than hitting the unfamiliar ground in this void of nothingness and creation of a horrific beast. the phantom ruby disappears. still a gem of unspeakable power, it's as though it fled realizing its power cannot be properly utilized.
or maybe it's because infinite has shown fear.
where, where did it go? his hands raise to his chest in search, the holder empty. no, this can't happen to him, he's the prophet.
...
underneath the rubble, shadow can hear nothing, as though the battle above has left somewhere else. he notices broken shards fall between the cracks within the darkness, some lit, others dull. they barely glow, shadow hardly wants to move, but he's familiar with the power that emanates from them. he clicks his tongue, the taste of blood in his mouth and rather than ignore the offering he picks up one shard.
he swallows it.
another piece, he swallows that too.
another, and another, and another — they drag against his tongue, cut against his throat. the pieces of the phantom ruby is an entirely different power from what he's usually working with, but between this and a chaos emerald that's barely holding onto anything.
he has to.
blood spurts from his body when he moves, he devours as though he has an endless hunger. ]