Vanguard
When Michael had looked at him, he couldn’t help but shudder for a second. Perhaps his heart would have throbbed as he realized just what his eyes had meant. That look… Even that obsolete puppet would have the audacity to look down on him with this revolting pity. It was enough to drown his heart in rage, but then again, it was one of the few things he could still feel.
But he knew that his cause was true, that in the end he was right and correct. That alone, the way he saw the world, mattered. Everything else might as well be rubbish make believe. It might as well all be a dream, but if one single person believed it to be reality, then perhaps everything is not as it seems.
So he watched, and observed, and perhaps without even realizing he frowned. What he witnessed was flawless exchange of skill, and perhaps an interesting turn of events. That is, if that man’s reluctance didn’t make it so sour. Even now, he had yet to bare his fangs. Or perhaps a child was too much for him to handle, mhh?
No, it was more than that. The sounds of this clash simply rang… hollow to him. One might as well have plastic dolls whack at one another until one drops dead. Of course, the victor had been decided from the beginning. There was no emotion, no passion, just a cheap sordid tale he had witnessed so many times it made him sick.
But perhaps there was a chance, as small as it was, that a swift stroke of the blade might change the course of fate. Very well, he would see this little play to the end.