Carver stood on the ramparts, looking up high in the sky. He was clad in his onyx armor, his helmet pressing tightly against his head, doing the most it could to contain his Wrath.
Chastity stood to his right, her arms folded over one another, the tips of her fingers gripping her biceps.
Next to them, lining the ramparts, stood the strongest Beakon had to offer alongside a plethora of strong refugees from various conquered territories.
All in this elite force had their eyes locked up.
All looked toward a tall man with long blond hair standing in the air, on nothing. Silver and gold armor with purple streaks adorned his body, yet no helmet hid his prideful face and the glare fastened upon it.
Breaking the silence in half, the prideful man roared:
"So, you have truly stooped this low, Wrath?!"
All but Wrath and Chastity shuddered at his voice.
"You have overstepped your bounds."
Chastity spoke with a calm, honeyed voice that eased the fears of her fellow soldiers.
