[@Eleos][@Rune_Alchemist]
For all their preparations and their patience, however, nothing disturbed the two Daybreakers in their vigil over their escape route. Even the scent of blood did not lure any Tyrants that may have been out of sight, and the Scarlet Moon only continued to shine on, apathetic to their presence. Almost they were beneath the acknowledgement of the denizens of the Ashen Lands. Though the seeds were sown, no one wandered into the garden.

But, imperceptible to the human nose, the wind brought with it the scent of blood, one that only Versomme could pick up. And though Cerise knew not the direction, though the demon could not communicate complex thought, she could sense it once more.

That insatiable hunger, driving her into action.

[@Patches][@Flamelord][@CyanideSweetie]
Through his agony, the scavenger didn’t even notice his impending doom until the golden arrow pierced through his skull, scrambling his brains. Gray matter leaked from the perfect hole that was made, the weapon of murder scattering into the wind, heralding the mad laughter of one of the protectors of humanity. Within the mind of another, the hedonistic demon Nirema smiled.

[i]Oh, I like this one.[/i]

Her affection bled into Lenier, but the Daybreakers were on the move once more. Though smooth, almost slippery, the massive obsidian spike proved to be easy to scale, leading to the interior of the seventh story of the building. Upon crossing the threshold, the three were instantly struck by the heavy concentration of miasma within, a black fog that prompted the ignition of their Crowns. Was this just ‘residue’, left behind by a Tyrant? Or was this indication that there was one close by? Regardless, the fire of their Divinity cleansed the lung-rotting darkness, as they ventured further into the building. Other scavengers must have already picked it clean, only concrete walls and bare floors left behind.

Thus, it wasn’t hard for the Daybreakers to notice the pile of bodies strewn in one corner, crumbling skeletons, gas masks hanging loosely on their bone-white faces, clothes reduced to rags. Six of these laid on a final body that still remained, thickly clothed, breathing thinly through a mask that covered his face. Packs laden with loot surrounded them, dog tags bearing names the only way to identify those that were lost.

[b]“..h-hel…”[/b]

A thin, reedy voice, barely human, hissed from the respirators, opaque lenses hiding the agony and relief that surely must be beneath the mask.

But those black thoughts poisoned Lenier’s mind once more, encouraged by the example set by Kari.

[i]You know what to do, right? Put him out of his misery, just like [b]she[/b] did.[/i]