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[ I have been given permission to GM Dakota! ]

The sky was in turmoil, but Ami's heart was steady. None of the setting mattered to her. She immediately shoved away from Merope with Dakota, completely losing interest in the Black soldier now that the crystal was charged. As they ran towards the king, Ami tried to steal her nerves. Thinking of Wilson as a Horseman helped. When a memory of her feelings slipped in, she tried to push it away.

Midstep, she pulled out the crystal, clenching it tightly in her hand like a shiv. It buzzed in her hand, urging her forward and keeping her from stopping altogether. Dakota ran alongside her, feeling the same urgency she did. "Move out of the way!" They pushed through the crowd burgeoning around him, and as Ami saw Pokerus crying, she couldn't help but feel a little pity. All of these people had no idea why she was murdering their king- it would be a horrible betrayal in their eyes. She only hoped they'd forgive her in the real world. She was determined to see that they WOULD get to the real world.

When they got to Wilson, Ami's heart stuttered. Every wayward glance she'd sent, every blustery sigh, every night she'd spent crying came to mind, and wouldn't leave her alone. She raised the crystal-

-And tossed it to Dakota. She couldn't do it. Dakota's hand snapped out, and he lacked the trepidation she displayed. The crystal came down, and embedded itself in Wilson's heart.

The deed was done. "Vive la roi," Ami whispered, as she swooped forward to catch his body. Once he was dead and gone for sure, she'd go on to examine his body, looking for the "key or map."

Vanya searched them out; blue eyes wide. She'd felt it; their King fall and it ripped through her entire being like a hot knife through butter. Her arms flared and wings brought her into the sky; a better view of the battle below. She spotted them; Wilson, Poke, Ami and Dakota. The murderer was the last thing on her mind at that point in time. Let them grieve first and then seek revenge. She landed beside Wilson, a hand clutching Poke's shoulder. She knelt down and bowed before him, wide and terrified eyes hidden by bangs that fell over her face. She wanted to be reassuring; to say that a medic could fix this and it would be okay. But Poke was a medic and she knew. Wilson knew. Everyone knew there was nothing they could do to stop it. It was inevitable.

Her shoulder's slumped. She'd failed her King and her Kingdom. "I'm sorry," To Wilson and Poke and every other White Kingdom citizen that was close enough to hear it; perhaps even those that weren't. Gingerly, she reached out and fingers curled around his jacket, pulling on it lightly. Her face never rose. She couldn't look him in the eyes; that was the only thing that would break down her barrier and send the tears she was forcing back pouring out. "Please forgive me."

The Black King didn't manage to avoid the precision of Amrita's hand, but in passing he grabbed her wrist and used it to pull her close. His shadowy face split open to reveal a row of long and terrible teeth. "How dare you-!"

The Voice's proclamation grabbed his attention for a half-second before it returned to the pseudo-Shadow.

The Voice was at least something familiar, order where there was chaos. There was another CRACK that they could practically feel hang in the air. The world itself, from horizon to horizon, had fallen apart. It was not darkness that lay beyond the sky, but nothingness in a manner and scale the King had never seen before. The only thing that stood out was a rainbow of colors rising up into the sky, a tower unlike any other.

It called to him, and his grip on the false Advisor slipped away along with his focus. He took a few mechanical steps toward the tower before he even realized he had moved. He had to go there... he had to prove that his faith had been unshaken to the end. The Voice had given him everything, and it had taken it all away, a little at a time. But not without mercy, and warning, and so he could continue to believe that this was just one more trial, one more test, to which he would glady sacrifice everything but his own existence. The Voice had promised a True King... what King would be more True than one who did not give in to the lies and madness of interlopers and silver traitors?

Xiu received a poisonous glance as she left. He would not be dissuaded; this world was all he knew, and the only one he would ever know. They were all wrong, and when he was the True King, they would see, and they would fall -

"I must speak with the Voice," he explained to Amrita with a faraway stare, and his tone was firm. "Do as you will. But get in my way again and I will not hesitate to end your troublesome existence once and for all."

He left for the tower without another word.

(( EXIT ))

As he traveled through the battlefield to meet with the girl, he can see something wrong is happening...

The sky's color is fading-no, there's a CRACK in the middle of the supposedly limitless sky, as it were a great dome resting upon their heads.

From the crack, hundreds other cracks are slowly forming, corrupting the rest of the space with strange spidernest-like pattern.

And without any notice, it happened.

The Voice is calling.
The Voice has arrived.

Wha...?

As 'it' makes its appearance, the ones still remaining on the battlefield took on a strange action...

Their movement is dulled. Their breathing became erratic. It seems even attacking causes color to fade from their miasmic aura.

"What happened!? Is this some kind of airborne poison or-"

But there's something strange with that theory. That is, he didn't suffer from those effects-nor some others. What gives-

Suddenly, an image flashed before his eyes. A tower. A tower with walls of many colors and shape.

"Wha..."

His feet started to move. It was almost like it was guided throughout the battlefield with a glowing road. His mind cannot comprehend it, but there's a strange calling resounding in his head; telling that he should go to that contraption in his mind.

The Voice was there.

As well as the means to become True King.

As he helplessly guided to that tower by some unknown power, he can catch a glimpse of a familiar face.

"Sorry Ary-I'll go first."

She felt a hand on her shoulder, her head turning sideways to see who it was. Vanya was here, offering her support. It was a welcome sight, and she was thankful for it. With a nod her way she turned back towards the commander.

To see Dakota had sent a crystal through his chest.

The Drogiam couldn't believe it. Her blood froze in pure and utter shock at what she saw. Dakota....he was a lieutenant! Why...why, why, why, WHY?!?!

The screaming was what broke her. Tears ran down her face freely at hearing the commander scream in his death throes. She didn't want to be here, didn't want to see this happening. She would rather disappear then have this happen to her commander. To see this betrayal of his most trusted men. She closed her eyes, willing everything to just go away...

They snapped open as a hand came to brush away her tears. "No...Commander" She choked out, kneeling beside the stricken king, "Don't go...Don't go!!". She watched on as his eyes closed...his hand had fallen...

"WILLLLLSSSSSSSOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNN"

She roared, screaming out the commanders name. He was gone, the commander was gone. And even if a small part knew the futility of it, questioning why she was even crying in the first place, she still grieved for her lost king. And as part of the stages of grief, her thoughts turned to anger, and she rounded on the ones who killed him

"WHY?!" She shouted at Dakota and Ami. "WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?! WHY?!"

Roch cursed, seeing the sky, seeing the death all around him. He had to stay focused, he thought. He was pretty sure he was dying. He took one more swipe at the black shadow and gave up, heading back for his commander. He had something to say.

"Captain," he said to Wilson. "I always felt like--like there was a better guy I should be--a guy I LIKE better than me. I guess I ain't gonna find out if I can be that guy. I tried, though. And I think you did, too," he said, looking at Wilson. "I'm sorry that I doubted you, sir."

At least... just a little... he hoped to be more like the man he wished he was before he died.

And then Wilson died.

The world was falling apart. The child was not alarmed, he had been told it was so. They really were made to break. Pawns and rooks and knights and bishops, kings and queens. Even the Voice itself?

He felt a pull, something tugging at him from within. Elysian? Were his goodbyes at an end? Without a word, the small child began heading through the battlefield, in the direction he knew to be true.


(Exiting)