Chase's eye sockets singed with fire as the image of the woman with green robes, as well as an immense catalyst of energy-continued to burn into his memory.
His perception flashed white, and quickly turned itself inward as shapes refused to take form, and time itself distorted within the vision. And yet he could not get the woman out of his head, as if she had purposely entered his dream and used a mental attack such as Sazir's.
However, what feared him the most: Was not the woman herself, who resembled a power such as The Lesser Goddess, Luna. No, it was the man who had once lifted the vibrant silver rings from their pouch.
The terrible energy that had been within that room-although it be a memory, had burned into his brain like some sort of magnet.
His energy threatened to overload, as both the vision's energy as well as the corruption of his physical body continued too leak into his flesh.
Chase was on the verge of explosions, as electrons litterly tore apart in his inner catalyst.
Reaching up to grab at his throat out of the physical fearful instinct of hyperventilation; however, his hand passed through nothing but air, as his gaze lowered and his hands were no where to be found.
His brain began to lash at answers that didn't exist, as the very perception of reality itself continued to crack apart before him.
He could no longer distinguish the difference between real and the vision itself.
Eventually, the terrible tremors stopped and the pain of his catalyst erupting ceased.
His perception flashed, and he was now sitting cross-legged in a pit of mud.
Quickly scanning the area, he realized that he was in a very familiar location. It was late at night in a dark and foggy forest, but hundreds of lanterns were filling the distant fog as the sounds of what was clearly battle echoed through the Eastern Edge of The Dark Forest.
Looking down at his withered Unity branded gloves, he remembered that he had been stationed here by Paladin Elite after Xerion's attack wiped out half of the frontline forces.
Scratching his head, as a crimson liquid rushed down his black armor-he narrowed his vision, trying to grasp his memory for his own name-his had forgotten about the ensuing battle taking place in every direction that surrounded his staggered state.
His legs began to turn numb as he realized just how screwed he was. He cursed that damn bastard for dragging him into a losing war.
They had lost the kid, then they lost half their army, and now they were going to lose their entire reserves.
Justin cursed under his breath, summoning a strand of crimson blood from his own flesh.
He threaded the crimson liquid easily, not even having to lift a hand. Watching with euphoria: Justin's wounds began to repair his near-fatal wounds.
"Damnit all Chase... Done and got us all killed."
He chuckled, unsheathing a small dagger from the inside of his black boot.
He climbed out of the pit, staying low as he made his way towards the closest sound of fighting.
He ducked into the fog, using the giant trees as cover while he progressed into the battle.
It was terrible, Justin had to be on full alert with all of the fog blinding the entire forest, but one step could also be his downfall. Bodies of both allies and enemies lined the crimson forest landscape.
Looking down in disgust, Justin spotted several enemy soldiers squinting their eyes among the dead. Several vile creatures faking among the fallen, and the best part...
Was that they were the soldiers under The Grand Paladin's direct orders... Wearing that filthy and traitorous badge of the sword...
Just needed energy, and his ways were far too detrimental to be hidden away within a graveyard such as this one.
Bearing his fangs, he lowered his head closer to one of the sleeping soldiers. Then a crushing blow landed upon his own cranium.
A familiar voice bellowed from behind.
"Skyla-" Justin began to ask in confusion, turning his head as the seconds passed by.
A sharp blade slid underneath the right side of his collarbone.
The dark green eyes of their own ally-Skylar of House Undead, stared deeply into Justin's own eyes.
"What game is this?" Justin growled, snapping his jaw in a desperate act to bit into Skylar's throat.
However, the pale man did nothing.
Justin's vampiric teeth dug into his flesh, but no blood spilled.
Skylar immediately grabbed Justin by his head, and shoved him into the trunk of a tree, his knees buckling as his cranium suffered another terrible blow.
"Good riddance JPice, you have served me well in this revolt..."
Before Justin could recover his senses, a silver flash ran across his vision.
Time froze as the long and thin silver blade of yet another traitor shot towards his own neck.
He relaxed, knowing that his debt would finally need to be repaid in full.
Then as if destiny itself had intervened, the forest trembled under a mighty force.
The fog began to clear as the sound of hooves crushing into mud and dirt echoed like war drums within this hellscape.
Justin lifted his body slowly, as Skylar's hands trembled with the blade outstretched and shaking just inches away from the man he was seconds away from killing.
Looking into Skylar's eyes, Justin could see two things. One of which was regret, as he had once been such a passionate member of this group, he had nearly died on several occasions following their warlord of a leader into suicidal missions. It was clear that he had regretted his acts, and probably wished that in some perfect world he could have risen along side us; however, the other thing that Justin could see behind the deep and sleepless eyes of Skylar: Was fear...
True fear, the kind that can singlehandedly shatter the brain of a murderer's victim, the kind that had taken away many good friends of Justin, had stripped soldiers of their badges, and dishonored families for ages.
But what feared Skylar, only made Justin's grin bigger.
A single horse with a lone rider trotted through the forest, soldiers freezing the swings of their blades as their bodies went limp.
Watching in awe as the entire battle shifted its momentum, the brother of The King of Corruption, leaped off of his horse, slowly nearing Skylar as his horse's quick trot turned into the slow and chilling walk of the King of The West.
Mare stepped towards Skylar, instantly shooting a hand out and grabbing him by the throat.
With a deep and angered voice, he growled. "Skylar of House Undead, who do you serve?"
Although Mare's abilities were quite unique, so Skylar was currently battling the petrification of his own mind.
"He bloody stabbed!" Justin made sure to announce as he leaned against the tree, now standing.
Mare shrugged, throwing Skylar's body aside and turning his head towards his second in command.
"Legion, gather our men and make sure to plant the flag, let them know that this is no place for them..."
Justin's gaze once again found itself on the countless bodies lining the forest.
"What about the fallen?"
He asked, leaning back with a pained groan.
Mare's eyes lowered towards the ground, blood dripping off of his black cloak.
"Leave them..."