Vanguard
Hmph. A trite reaction for such a little display. He had no patience for such jests, nor was he feeling particularly kind. However, her curiosity was commendable, it deserved to be seen through. At the very least, he would answer her previous question truthfully.
"I am the one asking questions."
He spoke with the sort of voice that belonged to a corpse more than a man of flesh and blood, a sheer pressure that was enough to choke the life out of the plants around the two, turning grass and shattered trees into mummified husks as he fed on their essence. She'd resist, of course, but not without feeling that presence drawing nearer, the sort of smell that all living beings seek to avoid desperately.
The end.
A powerful hand lifted her off the ground by the chin, the power of his grip was undeniable, yet there was no pain or emotion in his touch, as if she was being grabbed by a mannequin. He would neither look down on her nor lower himself to her level. He would bring her higher, so she may reach him. So that she may reach heaven. His soul dug deeper into hers, reaching out to her and grasping at her like a wild dance.
The sensation was impossible to describe, the colors sinking into her mind unable to be recreated, it was all too otherworldly, the sort of thing that one can only imagine in fairy tales. If one had to attempt, it was as if unseen hands were stroking her heart, cradling it as gently as a babe. In contrast to the fantastical feat, his voice was as somber as ever.
"You are mistaken. My enemies are not imaginary. Open your eyes, maid, you should be able to see them."
And once their foreheads touched, something indescribable penetrated her soul, thrusting into her in such ways that her entire being felt like it would be split open, yet there was no pain or discomfort. It was as if it was the most natural thing in the world, the same way 2+2 makes 5 or the sky is actually made of broken cookie crumbs. It was quite trite, no different than shaping your soul's aura into letters or numbers.
He just thought it would be easier to show her instead of telling her, so he let her see the world the way he did. The seas of stars chained in stillness, the milky rivers of time swirling around ad nausea, a sickening stagnation, and the strings of fate dragging each and every one of them along like driftwood on a river.
The skies, the trees, the ground, even people. Everything looked fake, and wrong, and twisted. Like this world wasn't what it was meant to be. Every flaw, every mistake, every imperfection was as glaring as ever, and seemed more and more utterly unacceptable.
Letters of aura formed around the girl, the same exact display she had offered him earlier.
Do you understand now?
