All things cruel time devours,
birds and beasts, trees and  flowers.
Gnaws iron, tarnish silver, bites steel;
Grinds hard stones and old bones to meal.
Slays king, destroys kingdoms, ruins town,
dries the oceans and beats high mountains down.
And so time grows in its wicked power,
by each fleeting moment, minute, hour.

Back into the waters of the font. bleeding, but not quite dead. Flesh burnt as he cursed the metal in embedded in the wound. Two were stopped, but the third hit true. A shot plugged into his chest, extracted now with a burrowing claw, fingers tearing out the seared viscera as his breathing became labored. Silver burnt him, annoyed the Lord of the Night to no end as he ripped out the bullet and tossed it upon the stone floors of the Solider Base. A lucky shot, nothing more than a robotic folly. A new age of technology had just barely defeated the old knight and his quick blade. But what was it for? His pride was bruised, worth far more than the chunk of lung he had just torn from his own body. Flesh would regrow, but Bedivere's pride and reputation would be... Difficult to deal with. He had destroyed much of Kilo Point, yet and managed to note his backdoor, an exit strategy he had prepared as he stepped into the waters into his world again.

Home at last. Just before the sun would rise upon the Isles. Mithias made it out, he had made certain of that much before he left. The Younger vampire was more than just an asset in their little war, but perhaps the only other soul Bedivere could call amongst his kin.