Thunder boomed overhead, shaking the earth as lightning flashed through the sky.
Rain lashed down on the city, cold as ice and sharp as knives against any poor soul who was caught out in it.
But in the twisted alleys of the Surface Tier, a knight in gold washed armour knelt on the ground, cradling the body of his love in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered cradling the motionless body close to his chest, “I’m so sorry, Mary.”
Blood was pouring from the lifeless corpse, flowing onto the ground, mixing with the mercilessly cold puddles. A look of fear and sorrow was still frozen on the pale face.
A sword laid on the ground by the knight's side, still stained crimson.
As the man continued to cling on, the body was enveloped by a silver light.
A Reincarnate never left any physical matter behind.
The scar on the knight’s palm- the one that had healed so many lifetimes ago- started bleeding once again.
With that he knew that he was not forgiven.
But never mind, he thought as he released the body and it started breaking apart to return to the Great Spirit.
Everything would return to how it once was.
They would be born again.
They would return to him once more.