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The War begins, the world turns
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Re: The War begins, the world turns
(That's fine.)
God bless us everyone
We're a broken people living under loaded gun
And it can't be outfought
It can't be outdone
It can't out matched
It can't be outrun
No
Nightkill sighed as the villain went on his rant. Why did they do that? It'd be far simpler just to do things, not make boasts that made you seem like you were compensating for something. But then the man mentioned this.
"You're familiar with what happens to a giant star when it exhausts it's fuel correct? Now, imagine I'm the star. Well, I'm getting tired, and running out of fuel." You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what would happen, and Nightkill actually wasn't. He hired people for that sort of space thing. That reminded him, set up meeting with Markus Lindon if you survive...
With Mist slung across his shoulder, he started to run at full speed, ignoring the pain coming from all parts of his body. They were a few dozen kilometers from the nearest town of Amritsar, so he wasn't worried about the townsfolk being collateral damage. He ran past a puzzled Pakistani soldier, who was aiming to shoot this strange Indian-looking man and the white girl across his back when he was utterly vaporized from the explosion, dead before he knew it.
Nightkill ran from the explosion, which was still raging and coming toward them. It was as though the explosion was following him. He looked over his other shoulder, and saw that the building, quite frankly, did not exist. He also noted the flames still rushing toward him.
He ran faster. He ran and kept on running, till he came to Amritsar itself. The explosion had actually stopped quite a while ago, but in his rush he hadn't noticed or cared. He knew that the man Everyone was dead. He had to be, after all. He even compared himself to a supernova, and the thing with supernovas was that the stars died.
His knees sagged with exhaustion. All he wanted to do was rest, when he came upon a horrific scene. The Pakistani soldiers had gotten here after all....
And when I close my eyes tonight
To symphonies of blinding light
(God bless us everyone
We're a broken people living under loaded gun
Oh)
Like memories in cold decay
Transmissions echoing away
Far from the world of you and I
Where oceans bleed into the sky
There were hundreds of dead Hindus, Sikhs, Christians, and even Muslims littering the streets. Nightkill stared, genuinely dumbstruck. He began speaking aloud. "Azad, come in."
In his head, the black butler began to speak. "I'm hearing you, sir. May I ask what you require?"
"I think I'll need a ride out-Oh God." the last two words were spoken with no emotion whatsoever. Just "oh God." But it wasn't that he didn't care, it was more that his emotions could not comprehend what he was seeing.
There was a row of Hindus, leaning against a wall, with their legs crossed so that they appeared to be in prayer. But their mouths were split open, and a slice of beef was crudely stuffed in each of their mouths. There was a cow burning on a pyre near them. Nightkill also saw a row of Sikhs, each with their beards crudely cut off. It wasn't a very careful cut. Throats appeared to be slit as well.
Nightkill fell to his knees. "Sir?" Azad asked, but Nightkill wasn't listening. The sheer depravity of this....He walked through some buildings, and it was plain to see what had occurred within these walls. These people were not good Muslims at all. He was thankful that Mist was unconscious. After seeing a naked Hindu woman stuffed underneath a bench, Nightkill sat down on the ground, feeling very, very old.
Even after ninety years, humans could surprise him. First Everyone, then this. This didn't have an emotional reaction on him, making him turn from the life of 'evil'. No, it solidified his feelings. To stop more things like this from happening, humans needed one leader. One strong, decisive, intelligent leader. He would be that leader.
He stood up. Amritsar, a thriving city only hours before, was now a near ghost town, though gunshots could be heard in the distance. "Just get me out of here, John. Just get me out."
-------------------------
Two days later in New York....
Nightkill lay in a bed, groaning. His various wounds were recovering, aided by his regeneration factor, but he slept for quite a while. Exhaustion could be a formidable enemy.
Azad brought him a cup of tea, which he drank gratefully. "Thank you, my friend. How is Amy?"
The butler sat on the chair next to the bed. "She's fine. Not as badly hurt as you were. You did a commendable job of keeping her safe from that Everyone man. He is dead, is he not?"
Nightkill chuckled. "Some would say I should be dead, considering the fact I died a few times already to mean that I should, by all rights, be dead. I feel, quite sadly, we may see that man, no, that thing yet again."
Azad nodded. "I'll go now." he told his master, leaving the room.
Nightkill sighed, and remembered Amritsar. Seeing nobody was there, he put his head in his hands, and his shoulders shook with his weeping.
God save us everyone,
Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns?
For the sins of our hand
The sins of our tongue
The sins of our father
The sins of our young
No
(End topic.)
God bless us everyone
We're a broken people living under loaded gun
And it can't be outfought
It can't be outdone
It can't out matched
It can't be outrun
No
Nightkill sighed as the villain went on his rant. Why did they do that? It'd be far simpler just to do things, not make boasts that made you seem like you were compensating for something. But then the man mentioned this.
"You're familiar with what happens to a giant star when it exhausts it's fuel correct? Now, imagine I'm the star. Well, I'm getting tired, and running out of fuel." You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to figure out what would happen, and Nightkill actually wasn't. He hired people for that sort of space thing. That reminded him, set up meeting with Markus Lindon if you survive...
With Mist slung across his shoulder, he started to run at full speed, ignoring the pain coming from all parts of his body. They were a few dozen kilometers from the nearest town of Amritsar, so he wasn't worried about the townsfolk being collateral damage. He ran past a puzzled Pakistani soldier, who was aiming to shoot this strange Indian-looking man and the white girl across his back when he was utterly vaporized from the explosion, dead before he knew it.
Nightkill ran from the explosion, which was still raging and coming toward them. It was as though the explosion was following him. He looked over his other shoulder, and saw that the building, quite frankly, did not exist. He also noted the flames still rushing toward him.
He ran faster. He ran and kept on running, till he came to Amritsar itself. The explosion had actually stopped quite a while ago, but in his rush he hadn't noticed or cared. He knew that the man Everyone was dead. He had to be, after all. He even compared himself to a supernova, and the thing with supernovas was that the stars died.
His knees sagged with exhaustion. All he wanted to do was rest, when he came upon a horrific scene. The Pakistani soldiers had gotten here after all....
And when I close my eyes tonight
To symphonies of blinding light
(God bless us everyone
We're a broken people living under loaded gun
Oh)
Like memories in cold decay
Transmissions echoing away
Far from the world of you and I
Where oceans bleed into the sky
There were hundreds of dead Hindus, Sikhs, Christians, and even Muslims littering the streets. Nightkill stared, genuinely dumbstruck. He began speaking aloud. "Azad, come in."
In his head, the black butler began to speak. "I'm hearing you, sir. May I ask what you require?"
"I think I'll need a ride out-Oh God." the last two words were spoken with no emotion whatsoever. Just "oh God." But it wasn't that he didn't care, it was more that his emotions could not comprehend what he was seeing.
There was a row of Hindus, leaning against a wall, with their legs crossed so that they appeared to be in prayer. But their mouths were split open, and a slice of beef was crudely stuffed in each of their mouths. There was a cow burning on a pyre near them. Nightkill also saw a row of Sikhs, each with their beards crudely cut off. It wasn't a very careful cut. Throats appeared to be slit as well.
Nightkill fell to his knees. "Sir?" Azad asked, but Nightkill wasn't listening. The sheer depravity of this....He walked through some buildings, and it was plain to see what had occurred within these walls. These people were not good Muslims at all. He was thankful that Mist was unconscious. After seeing a naked Hindu woman stuffed underneath a bench, Nightkill sat down on the ground, feeling very, very old.
Even after ninety years, humans could surprise him. First Everyone, then this. This didn't have an emotional reaction on him, making him turn from the life of 'evil'. No, it solidified his feelings. To stop more things like this from happening, humans needed one leader. One strong, decisive, intelligent leader. He would be that leader.
He stood up. Amritsar, a thriving city only hours before, was now a near ghost town, though gunshots could be heard in the distance. "Just get me out of here, John. Just get me out."
-------------------------
Two days later in New York....
Nightkill lay in a bed, groaning. His various wounds were recovering, aided by his regeneration factor, but he slept for quite a while. Exhaustion could be a formidable enemy.
Azad brought him a cup of tea, which he drank gratefully. "Thank you, my friend. How is Amy?"
The butler sat on the chair next to the bed. "She's fine. Not as badly hurt as you were. You did a commendable job of keeping her safe from that Everyone man. He is dead, is he not?"
Nightkill chuckled. "Some would say I should be dead, considering the fact I died a few times already to mean that I should, by all rights, be dead. I feel, quite sadly, we may see that man, no, that thing yet again."
Azad nodded. "I'll go now." he told his master, leaving the room.
Nightkill sighed, and remembered Amritsar. Seeing nobody was there, he put his head in his hands, and his shoulders shook with his weeping.
God save us everyone,
Will we burn inside the fires of a thousand suns?
For the sins of our hand
The sins of our tongue
The sins of our father
The sins of our young
No
(End topic.)
Guest- Guest
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