With Phantoms

With Phantoms
The day was here, the die were cast A the battle that represented the events of the past, A a fight for freedom, a fight for revenge B a fight for one's friend to avenge, B a fight to see which of the two would last - A the Toa unslung her gun, seeing the form C of the being which took away her "darling" Lorne, C and quickly squeezed the trigger, giving the being a blast A as the rusty opponent moved fast A attempting to outlast the Toa's firepower. A Quickly, the being drew it's sword, without a word D demonstrating skill with the weapons, the Toa a herd D of Rahi that couldn't fathom to fight against his blade E of Rahi that couldn't hold up against the raid E of Rahi that now, with it's gunfire, slurred - D but hope was not lost, as she continued to pepper the being F with shots of iron, through the muzzle flash barely seeing F and so, bullets, the Toa would continue to spur alongside the situation that stirred as the temple, around them, collapsed like a flightless bird.

The dust settled, and the Toa reloaded quick for the smell of powder and dust was making her sick and the faster she got to leave, the better and with her current anger, the Demon had ought to let her; though, both opponents knew they wouldn't walk away without a nick. The Toa pulled back the bolt of her gun readying herself for the Demon's next bout of fun But it appeared that the Impostor was rather slick, having left the temple; now rubble so thick, whilst the dust settled, even if he was built like a brick. The Toa had revenge as her motive, now and would not rest until she made the Impostor bow although with her seething revenge, there's one thing she forgot her missing left forearm, the muscles to which left to rot the bleeding meat of her arm, now left for chow the burial of Lorne, now a bloodbath in wake of the lone Toa's own warpath. You might think "an event like this, how could I allow?", but I think it best not to ponder that anymore or now, but I will protect her, in any way I can - that, I vow.

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Losing my arm was not ideal, but I must keep calm, I must stave infection, and I trust whatever is above that I will stay safe, even now, through this desecrated city I strafe; the buildings once great, are now buildings to dust. I'm bleeding more rapidly than I originally thought and in that fight, I believe I truly fought ascending the title of 'Toa' itself, a new life I've been thrust, keeping civilian life safe through any way I deem fit, not for bloodlust but for the safety of all that needs to be, lest the world become rust. What kept me from killing him, from blindly firing into the mist? My aim was steady, my adrenaline low, it's not like I'd have missed... But it seems that I couldn't give the trigger a squeeze and it would have been worthwhile to put an end to that... Disease of a being, the one that served feeling from my arm and wrist. Perhaps I'll never know, lest I meet him again although the Demon is likely to cowardly to attend our next bout, our next duel, so I'll hunt for him myself, and deliver him my fist and crush him, as if he was a petty grist. I assure you, Lorne, he is at the very top of my list.

Into the woods I go, looking for other signs of life perhaps they'll admire my tall tales of strife seeking to avenge you, avenge your name, seeking to avenge your face, and your fame. Trust me, to the throat of that Demon, I'll put a knife and then bring the highest authority his head, even if all that's left is alive or dead. His blood, across the ground, will be plenty rife and the only people crying will be the insects of the nightlife who see the head with no body, and the body with the knife. That is, now, the only day I fathom to waltz back into society, with my own anthem with the head of your killer, the head that shall be mounted on a pillar with the words "traitor" drawn across, and items thrown at my feet, to be classed as the elite, for putting to death such an evil phantasm. Perhaps now, Lorne, my darling Madam; I'll stop pretending I'm not you, and stop playing with phantoms.