05-24-2016, 11:03 AM
Wind carried ash across Death Mountain, spreading the most common natural resource of this land just like it would any other day. Like the sands of a desert or the waves of the ocean, the constant flow of ash slowly removed any evidence that there had been any sort of battle. But the wounds on the surface of the mountain were there, buried beneath the fresh coat of dulled embers.
There was a metaphor somewhere in there.
A gloved hand reached through the blood soaked substance, parting the black powder as it reached for anything that it could grasp to. Finding nothing, it settled for a handful of burnt ash, and pushed down. This was leverage enough, and Zack Fair rose from his shallow would-be grave. He still couldn’t stand completely, but he was able to at least rise to a seated position. Congealed blood and the namesake resource of this verse fell from him as he merely sat and gathered his strength.
Zack had no idea how much time had passed. He also didn’t really know exactly where he was, or what had happened to the others. It was wildly apparent that the battle had been lost, but whether there were any survivors besides himself was not obvious at the moment. Surely Volvagia had spared as few as possible. He hoped Nealaphh had gotten his message, and that Beta and Gamma teams were aware of Alpha’s defeat.
It the distance, a roar could be heard, along with the sounds of battle. Zack nodded to no one in acknowledgement of what that meant. Maybe his warning had been irrelevant. He wanted to jump back to action, and to take another shot at the dragon. That wasn’t a possibility at the moment, loathe as he was to admit it. He was never one to quit a fight, and he’d certainly beaten bigger things in his life. That was before the balancing act of the Omniverse, however. Not that “balanced” was a word Zack would have used to describe the insane power that Volvagia had hurled at them. Had they stood even the slightest chance?
Slowly, he reached back into his resting place, finding the handle of the Buster Sword and pulling his weapon from the coat of ash as well. He then found and removed his phone from it. Though the sword only had a few nicks and dents, the phone was certainly inoperable with the damage it had taken. He’d fix it later. As much as he wanted to call to his allies, it was more important to assess the casualty count up here, and then get the hell off this summit before Volvagia came back to add to the numbers.
That was a very demanding task for the man who had just barely survived the battle with the beast who was better described as a force of nature. Truly, Zack appreciated the urgency and how critical time was. It would have to wait, though. He sat there ignoring the pelting of the windblown ash on his wounded body, paid no attention to the possibility of the wyrm returning, and disregarded the sounds of distant battle.
He just needed one more moment to rest.
There was a metaphor somewhere in there.
A gloved hand reached through the blood soaked substance, parting the black powder as it reached for anything that it could grasp to. Finding nothing, it settled for a handful of burnt ash, and pushed down. This was leverage enough, and Zack Fair rose from his shallow would-be grave. He still couldn’t stand completely, but he was able to at least rise to a seated position. Congealed blood and the namesake resource of this verse fell from him as he merely sat and gathered his strength.
Zack had no idea how much time had passed. He also didn’t really know exactly where he was, or what had happened to the others. It was wildly apparent that the battle had been lost, but whether there were any survivors besides himself was not obvious at the moment. Surely Volvagia had spared as few as possible. He hoped Nealaphh had gotten his message, and that Beta and Gamma teams were aware of Alpha’s defeat.
It the distance, a roar could be heard, along with the sounds of battle. Zack nodded to no one in acknowledgement of what that meant. Maybe his warning had been irrelevant. He wanted to jump back to action, and to take another shot at the dragon. That wasn’t a possibility at the moment, loathe as he was to admit it. He was never one to quit a fight, and he’d certainly beaten bigger things in his life. That was before the balancing act of the Omniverse, however. Not that “balanced” was a word Zack would have used to describe the insane power that Volvagia had hurled at them. Had they stood even the slightest chance?
Slowly, he reached back into his resting place, finding the handle of the Buster Sword and pulling his weapon from the coat of ash as well. He then found and removed his phone from it. Though the sword only had a few nicks and dents, the phone was certainly inoperable with the damage it had taken. He’d fix it later. As much as he wanted to call to his allies, it was more important to assess the casualty count up here, and then get the hell off this summit before Volvagia came back to add to the numbers.
That was a very demanding task for the man who had just barely survived the battle with the beast who was better described as a force of nature. Truly, Zack appreciated the urgency and how critical time was. It would have to wait, though. He sat there ignoring the pelting of the windblown ash on his wounded body, paid no attention to the possibility of the wyrm returning, and disregarded the sounds of distant battle.
He just needed one more moment to rest.