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[sup]【[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1IR2k6-_Hmc]whispers of an end.[/url]】[/sup]
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[indent][indent][indent][i]This is a pain like which she has never known.

It’s different from flayed flesh and broken bone, it’s different from blood malformed and veins twisted, leagues apart from the esoteric horror squirming in eldritch deformities betwixt heart and soul. It’s a keening wail, a baying echo of dread that shatters through membrane and embeds deeper and deeper still yonder realms of quivering ebon and blue. Her blades are sunken in deep, twitching, flexing, burrowing further inward with a slick sound that pings foreign on her ears, oblique lashes shield that gaze of terror that glimmers pale, white, and shimmering within shadow and the invasions of darkness that crack and conform; obsidian claws they are. She’s kneeling in the dirt next, pebbles unforgiving in her skin, she can feel them slice deeper still as her blades fall, plummeting towards a netherworld of muck and taint. The helpless dredge descends, and the sky is weeping, cloaking bodies conformed and lain within the thickness of life and death; it’s the colour of black, brown, and red. Twisted and blended, beautiful and sadistic in every warp of hue and tone. 

And then, she [color=811519]screams.[/color]

It wasn’t supposed to end this way.[/i][/indent][/indent][/indent]
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[sub][color=3e4d5b]S O L D I E R[color=333333]. . .[/color]E N C A M P M E N T[/color] / / [color=3e4d5b]Z A L E R A[color=333333]. . .[/color] T U N D R A.[/color][/sub][hr][color=6e696f][indent][i]T[/i]he tundra’s of Zalera were slight, maintained through routine climate control, employed by the Govern through the massive units found within the spires of the Esper Ridge; reactors that yielded intense power and siphoned the caps until left desolate and barren. But such result was conceived and convinced as necessary to ensure the equal length of yearly seasons for means of comfort and luxury. The insurance afforded only to those within the central continent with the Dalmastice officials employing various from Palamecia to commission the reactors for a multitude of justified reasons and purposes authenticated by their sanction and delivery. 

However, when the sun descended yonder Esper Ridge peaks and slopes, the swirling winds conformed and intensified, the ever unpredictable gale riding across the waves of the canal betwixt Galbadia and Archadia’s closest masses where naval Shyps parted upon exchange of imported luxury and necessities. The Zalera plains gradually darkened, eclipsed in shadows of sapphire with feathering darkness and ebon delicacy and the soft rays of a reclining hell fire that bloomed through increasing tosses of mistral devices that appeared like a winter wreathed monsoon. The winds only increased slight and sharp when the steelish veneer of a fanged temptress founded on wiles of pain and war stood poised with arms laced at her ebon clothed breast and boots impaled deep within frigid soils that yielded beneath the stiletto with ease. By the gleam of her figure, and the platoon scattered across the plain, it was a clear phalanx of military impart with the dressings of further leagues and power.

It could only be SOLDIER.

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The haunted rumour of such weaponry and force, gilded within human flesh and esoteric bedlams of fortification, and given only a slight reign of freedom by the impart and order of their pomp addled and risen masters. There may not have been a leashed woven thrice around her clothed throat visibly, but the conceptual lead still manifested in the brigade ringing the circumference of the temporary shelter and constant wealth of eyes and observations to her person as she stoically - by initial glimpses - awaited the further arrival of many others. 

The Govern had relinquished the universal cage, yawning forth the gates to permit SOLDIER to arise to further obligations and capability, under browse and sanction of other masters and bearers. However, it was an improvement compared to being delegated and ordered to remain within units meant to contain and control, permitted only to yearn and desire for something they all universally lacked. But, the call had come, the orders had been sent.

The first SOLDIERS were being deployed.

Carmen Auset, garbed in traditional obsidian threads of fortified mesh; nylons and steel threaded uniforms that appealed to the clefts of her body yonder the padded exterior with slight pauldrons and a high collar that framed and caressed the line of jaw where blonde swept alive in the breeze, was the first one having arrived to the encampment. The debriefing had been quick and efficient, find way into Archadia and infiltrate the Grounds. It was simplistic in theory, but the execution was to be more complex, further complicated by the forbidden entry the northern continents had publicly announced under terror by further threat. The creatures described had been beyond reason and conception, much to the critical scrutiny of the Commander as she’d gleaned over every parcel of azure glows and text. She would’ve been accepting of a solo deploy, one SOLDIER would’ve been enough to gain access to the critical destination, but those delivered to the point of Zalera with her - her keepers, she calls them - had informed in clipped intonations [[i]it's fear, she thinks, with a wild simper of poison promise and wishes[/i]] that more SOLDIERS would be deployed along with her, the first of their kind to be given public sanction and reason. 

It was to be a varied platoon, a supposed unit of support and power under the reasoning of insuring success and to - she laughed - not lose control and avoid contact with the denizens of Faelan. SOLDIER wasn’t meant for the public, given the strain of political pull and reign, the continents under banner and pressure attempting to dislocate from the dominant Govern. The initial report and order had been given an entire span of three weeks ago, combined with the evidence that the encampment had been stationed for nearly a week, awaiting the arrival for the rest of the contingent. They were to divide and infiltrate, and she was literally thrumming with the anticipation as the squall intensified with sheaves of ebon wraiths and whorls expanding outward. She inhaled, the sun descending lower by slow, crawling increments as time fell and darkness gradually heralded the leash of nightly wonders and glittering crusts of tarnished winters and sludge that spread and swelled with each footfall of the designated sentry. Carmen had proffered her gradual assistance, by the rights of her power, she could delegate the brigade under sheer glances and intimidation alone, but they wielded peculiar controls and weaponry that sung and sparked and threatened her notions of betrayal and defection. It was a demented waiting game, every side and border gilded with their pieces, the deformed ordinance malformed under orders of a Govern that advocated for any league of control and power and imparted weapons of her origin and crippling state of mind and violent notions.

Gloves cinched tight and muscles swelled, intensifying the gale as her eyes expanded, glimmered, and formed into pools of crystalline malice that bespoke of reclining patience and increasing expectancy of a euphoric void that carved deep, wide fissures of festering [i]need[/i] betwixt reason and sanity. Carmen purred against the winds, and within her mortal shell the unfurling wrath of her King yawned and reaped forth, fracturing the conceptual shell of her quintessence and pouring outward within a quiver of malice and malcontent; teasing and baiting her stoic sentry as she awaited the arrival of her fellow SOLDIERS. She was mad and manic with power, the sky suddenly breaking and the winds imparting as aerial Shyps descended and Carmen's simper broke leagues of welcome and warmth; it shimmered cold, leaking a wealth of tempting wiles and felidae grace and just as unpredictable.

They were finally arriving.[/indent][/color]