06-06-2006, 02:56 PM
Time is what keeps things from happening all at once.
From out of nowhere, the quote struck Trunks. It was a well known verse on Earth which held an anonymous creator. Why he thought of it, he couldn't discern. It seemed to make a lot of sense to him, although he wished there was no time. He wished everything would happen at once, at least in Dante's Abyss. He wished this entire confrontation would erupt in a fiery conflagration of desperation and survival, and end as soon as the first glistening ember took to the sky. He wished each punch, each kick, each energy blast would mesh into one agonising moment and disperse at that moment's end.
But, that was a thought pattern for a fool.
Trunks walked confidently with his alliance. Everyone's face was sullen and indecipherable. The entire alliegance of mismatched warriors took one sturdy step after another, all certain of the unwanted situation that awaited them. No one spoke a word. It seemed the audible sound of breathing was louder with the concerned silence that followed them. No one needed to discuss what was before them. There was nothing. There was only one option; fight. There was no other offer on the table for anyone. Even with the added knowledge that another eleven warriors would be converging upon the one zone, no one dared to relay a message based upon any of it. Trunks thought he heard Thirteen say something, but no reply came, so the halfling disregarded it.
The rain began. It fell from the sky like myriad icy daggers, unable to pierce the skin but well and truly leaving their mark. Trunks released a haughty sigh through the raindrops. What else could go wrong? This entire nightmare was finally ending in an inauspicious manner, he had to face the choice that he could fight those he cared deeply about, and for the first real time, his mortality. And now, it was raining.
Trunks kept his mouth shut, stopping the train of complaining that would normally accompany such a scenario. He merely saved his gaze for the front, attempting to mitigate the damaging thoughts that attacked his brain like a pack of vultures picking at a dead corpse.
He knew the zone was coming in sight, despite the horrendous visiblity. Trunks glanced at his alliance, knowing full well it may be his last while they still aren't murdering each other, and looked forward. Pre-ordained destiny be damned; Trunks was not letting fate control his actions.
He was the master of his destiny, and his destiny was to fight.
From out of nowhere, the quote struck Trunks. It was a well known verse on Earth which held an anonymous creator. Why he thought of it, he couldn't discern. It seemed to make a lot of sense to him, although he wished there was no time. He wished everything would happen at once, at least in Dante's Abyss. He wished this entire confrontation would erupt in a fiery conflagration of desperation and survival, and end as soon as the first glistening ember took to the sky. He wished each punch, each kick, each energy blast would mesh into one agonising moment and disperse at that moment's end.
But, that was a thought pattern for a fool.
Trunks walked confidently with his alliance. Everyone's face was sullen and indecipherable. The entire alliegance of mismatched warriors took one sturdy step after another, all certain of the unwanted situation that awaited them. No one spoke a word. It seemed the audible sound of breathing was louder with the concerned silence that followed them. No one needed to discuss what was before them. There was nothing. There was only one option; fight. There was no other offer on the table for anyone. Even with the added knowledge that another eleven warriors would be converging upon the one zone, no one dared to relay a message based upon any of it. Trunks thought he heard Thirteen say something, but no reply came, so the halfling disregarded it.
The rain began. It fell from the sky like myriad icy daggers, unable to pierce the skin but well and truly leaving their mark. Trunks released a haughty sigh through the raindrops. What else could go wrong? This entire nightmare was finally ending in an inauspicious manner, he had to face the choice that he could fight those he cared deeply about, and for the first real time, his mortality. And now, it was raining.
Trunks kept his mouth shut, stopping the train of complaining that would normally accompany such a scenario. He merely saved his gaze for the front, attempting to mitigate the damaging thoughts that attacked his brain like a pack of vultures picking at a dead corpse.
He knew the zone was coming in sight, despite the horrendous visiblity. Trunks glanced at his alliance, knowing full well it may be his last while they still aren't murdering each other, and looked forward. Pre-ordained destiny be damned; Trunks was not letting fate control his actions.
He was the master of his destiny, and his destiny was to fight.
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