Almodozo had left his House members a while ago, feeling the pull of dreamless, but he found himself walking the Trinities with no memory of how he entered the City, much less these Planes.
- The ultimatum. Seventy-two hours. Soon times come when a decision must be made.
As he steps slowly down the Plane, thoughts of war, of battles, come unbidden to his head; shaking a calm dream with visions of violence. Light's time expires tomorrow, and they speak not of it... Do we make war? In the end, what would that truly solve? Slake a thirst for vengeance perhaps... but how does that advance the Dream?
- A stench of essence, seared off with chakram fire. The pop of a shield, put to too much service, expiring in the protection of its Dreamer. Misama fills the air, choking all with toxic clouds, each breath filling lungs with acrid poison.
Trinity Walk gives way to Trinity Rise, well worn steps. Not unfamiliar to Dozo's feet, often trod and well loved. Would this be a stand? What of this as an ambush? The beauty of this walk bespoilt with plotting and conniving.
- Screams of Kotoken, enraged and howling for blood; demanding vengeance upon the heads of Light and the Guard. The eclipse of the Sable Moon laid bright around the Dual Triune of Calenture, crashing upon the Facades of Illapse and Edgeward.
The Rise soon falls to the Plains and the path goes smoother, feet guiding where a troubled mind cannot. What is the end of this? Surely the City will be split in two, and none will find safe harbor anywhere. Is this what had been seen lo those many dreams ago in the Temple of Elements?
- An overwhelming sense of dread... a feeling of absolute retreat, complete destruction... Dread floods the dream... the world is ending, the dream is doomed. All will end in death. Death. Death...
Lambent, Edgeward, Illapse, the path falls more and more quickly below Almodozo's steps. Having never met War in the Dream he needed guidance, counsel. A voice that understood the grave art of warfare and knew its costs, the offerings it demanded of those that sought its face.
- Houses crumble, Facades fall to rubble. The Breaches bloom like flowers unknowable as screams erupt from the Dark Awakening; the denizens there rent asunder by forces unimaginably stronger than them. Threshold shudders and convulses before succumbing to the weight of the myriad Planes collapsed upon it.
King's Camp... where Almodozo failed his House and Seneschal by not being there to save her.
Where he failed the Dream by not doing all to snuff out the Fel art.
Where it happened.
Where he failed himself.
- Silence. Deep and absolute.
Piercing through the deafening silence a single scream, of a soul torn from the Dream. Forever lost to the unknowable seas beyond the walls of the city.
Understanding that his body took him where he needed to go, even if his mind did not know, Dozo's eyes look upon the Time Portal.
- I pick this sword, out of need.
He looks down and a blade forms in his hand; evoked, but not by his will.
- I will put it away when that need has passed.
Almodozo looks to the blade, the pommel changed from his usual... the Signet of the StarKnights now proud upon it.
- I will only use it to defend those who cannot defend themselves.
Looking over to the Portal he hears a whisper, "Kenna Rain... The Portal..."
- I shall never raise it in anger or retribution or vengeance, only to secure Peace.
The blade plunges into his body as coherence fades and he feels the Portal hungrily pull at his form, pulling at the butt of the blade now deeply set into his form.
- Once that Peace has come, I will put my sword away and hope that I never have to pick it up again!
All is dark now, a place without warmth or succor. The howls of a Horron heard trapped forever as a bit of sport, awaiting its next plaything.