[indent][center][img]https://i.imgur.com/pc6Dokb.png[/img]
[hider][youtube]https://youtu.be/Dy4HA3vUv2c[/youtube][/hider][/center][right][h1][color=C67C12]Leon[/color][/h1][/right][right][sub][hr][color=C67C12]Mentions:[/color] Cyril Noctis, Alizee Altiere, Judas Bennet, Valjean Vasil | [color=C67C12]Location:[/color] St. Portwell, Oregon: Veni Vidi Veni Parking lot [/sub][/right][hr]
[/indent] There was a level of strength in the scorpion beast before him that Leon wished he could keep up with. A stable, cooperative transformation was something he just couldn't have. Whether regret or envy filled him at that moment, he couldn't tell; it was a pang that radiated back into his third eye, drawn into the seal in that mirror again. He stared at the thrashing beast before him as the fire slowly fell from his singed and burned body. It was his own stamina, his own ability to handle more. She just wanted out, wanted to burst from the corpse like a black hole from a collapsed star. She had plenty of heat left for him, but he couldn't give it a great deal longer. 
He couldn't make purchase on the hot top, claws crumbling up the tar and opening furrows like plowed fields across the parking lot before Valjean used his own momentum to fling him back toward the disparate groups scattered before the Wolf Pack. It was only then that the eyes were drawn to the massive pile of sand. All the noise, all the magic in the air, it was overload on the beast's senses: But sight did not lie. As his eyes focused, the manifestation of the Void he'd come so used to seeing, so intuitively fearful of it's capacity, that he shuddered to think what had gotten it so riled up. Netting captured him, slowed him, brought him back down to the ground. But he couldn't release his eyes, his ears, his entire focus, it all fell upon the struggle.

The sand. The Void Light. 

Fifteen seconds.

The skin of his willpower sloughed from the bones involved and dribbled down his body like molten lead leaving little mounds of itself beneath his feet. It burned so badly, but he pushed it to the last possible second. There was a flash of metal, a hand with a threat. The beastial senses could hear the microscopic noise of the trigger's metal grinding and grinding. Rather than re-engage the scorpion, every bit of the physical form drove itself toward the incoming shots, and the exertion instantly turned fifteen seconds into no time at all. He smelled the hazy stench of the Void Light, the sulfur in the gunpowder as the bullet made its rush out of the barrel of the gun. 
Too little, too late. The last bullet chipped through his claw and upper index finger as his lanky hand attempted to scoop the supersonic pucks of metal from the sky. He couldn't. Not with all of the no strength he had left... It had been a mistake to try and get her out of the situation; immediately he knew that he should've remained there steadfast with Alizée and the Sycamores. The last bit of fire crept from his body, and in mid-air as he dove past Cyril's fate, he reached the impasse he always came to with Lelou. Everything that was left of him wasn't enough to maintain the transformation, not enough to hold onto the power of Lady Lelou in any meaningful way. It was now that he was weakest, and the only solution was to begin breaking the seals piece by piece. He'd let her out then, let her back into St. Portwell, back into the burgeoning garden he wished to tend.

The Void Light exploded in its fury, and as Leon collapsed upon the ground, the false structure began to burn away and curl up into the sky to roil about in the Void's darkness. By the time it was over, a near naked Leon laid in a rotten puddle of tar from which he weakly stood. The chaos hadn't stopped, but he... He couldn't compete here. Not now. In that moment he felt a wave of hatred curl over him, his head swiveling back to witness the continued madness when...
Green. A washing wave of invigoration that finally hit him at the very edge of its field. Cells devoid of nutrients and energy inflated thick with lifeblood, and all of Leon's senses drove his gaze to the source. For a moment, he was confused as he felt energy filling the blank pool of his Seals again. Eyes trailed back again, slowly passing the Void Light took its final wrenching climb into the darkness with Alizée's murderer in tow. He wanted to scream and rage, to beg forgiveness from an entity whom he had come to respect in a sick way. He knew that thing cared about its host, and that they were so much more in sync than he was with Lelou. Finally, his eyes turned back to look at Alizée again. Her beautiful pale face looked at peace, serine in her death as the bullets crept from healing flesh. 

He knelt down seeing the process occur, waiting for her breath to begin again as his hand gripped into hers.
[color=C67C12]"A-ali? Mon compagnon... No, no... No, no, no..."[/color]
It wasn't coming back. It wasn't coming. Blood wasn't pumping, breath wasn't drawing, and the Void Light was gone. She was gone. For a second, Leon took a deep breath.

[i]"You failed. Not enough people holding your fucking hand, and what? We lose it? The whole plan?"[/i]
He heard his mother's voice in his head loud as day. He'd managed to get rid of all her papers, yet there she was still stuffed into his ear. It wasn't real... It was-
[color=a36209][i]"She'd say that. I'd say I'm disappointed we're not killing for her."[/i][/color]
[color=C67C12][b]"If you'd cooperate-"[/b][/color]
[color=a36209]"It's done... For now."[/color]
This was new. There'd been no other time in which the two entities harbored within the single body were able to come to an agreement, but Lelou was not blind. She'd get something out of this, of course, but Leon would too. Some kind of revenge. Some release.

As the conflict drew to a head with the arrival of Judas and his beasts, as the battlefield came to a screeching hault, Leon knelt by his companion's side stiff as a statue, the energies inside him gathering and gathering.
[color=C67C12][b]"No, no... We can't..."[/b][/color]
[color=a36209][i]"What!? Explain yourself."[/i][/color]
[color=C67C12][b]"It's not over. It won't be over. Lelou... I beg you here and now, save this. Please, save the rage and the pain. Keep it, brew with it, but right now we'll do more good completing the initial objective. I... I can't risk her getting hurt any further."[/b][/color]
[color=a36209][i]"She's DEAD Leon! Fool! Moron! You may as well eat her for the extra ener-"[/i][/color]
Leon removed himself completely from his internal dialogue, closing every bar and gate he could possibly close to cut Lelou from furthering her interactions. Crossing that line, the line where union may be possible, was a dangerous path when the apparition was as cunning and evil as Lady Lelou. An impulse of pleasure could easily lead someone down the path of destruction, and he had a legacy to carry. Alizee or anyone else, none would keep him from destiny. He knew the right move had always been trying to remove her from this situation, and it was only his hunger for battle spurred by Lelou that kept him emotionally involved.

His arms scooped up under her, lifting her tiny frame up into the air. Her legs dangled limp at one side and he was careful to tuck her head into the crook of his arm to prevent it from the same dangling. His arms tightened, hugging around her one last time as tears began to fall silently from his eyes in long streams. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and began to step forward into the fray. It may surprise, or it may make Leon an open target, but he walked between it all in an attempt to once more take his leave from the hellscape that he'd witnessed the birth of. He'd not wanted this to begin with, but here he was carrying a friend away.
Whether or not he'd be stopped by some force outside his control, he didn't know. But, looking up at Judas Bennet, he knew that negotiation was off the table. His gaze passed to the line of shields and his old comrades behind them, and he scowled. Disorganized rabble, just like the old days. People died because they were fools, or didn't care about what was right. Impulsive children crawling into battle on their bellies. But the girl was gone. His personal charge, his personal inclination. What kind of sword and shield was he? What could he ever be for them? He shook his head, continuing to walk as if there was nothing happening but always expecting an interruption that would probably be more than painful. They'd not have the satisfaction of his retaliation.