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Luxor was not sure what he had been doing these past few years. Or rather, what the point of it all was. He spent all his time on his abandoned circus grounds, long since closed and shuttered down. He repurposed his buildings and even his rides, building himself something of a place to work out and train. It was massively dangerous, of course, and more than once he had gotten himself damaged for no reason and spent time healing alone, but there was no one around to notice.

And he certainly wasn't together enough to care.

Now, he had his obstacle courses and training apparatus' largely finished, for all the good that did him. He was faster, stronger, but felt no more attached to his purpose than when he first shut down to begin with. Without her, without the only light he had ever basked in, he felt hollow. He felt nothing at all.

And so he was not patrolling to stop evil doers from hurting innocent lives. He did not care about innocent lives. He did not believe in evil doers. He saw no difference in any of them, from the white moon or the negaverse. They were all the same, and just as pointless as the other, chasing themselves in circles like dogs with short tails.

But he was tired of punching dummies and walls. A few faces might make him feel better. Really, he did not care just who he ran into. Senshi. Nega. Whatever. He felt an aura and moved toward it, the bitter Knight not bothering to approach carefully or with any sort of plan of attack. He just walked toward the source of the aura, powered gauntlet already summoned to his hand.

The big, beefy, angry Knight looked toward the person waving at him. He sighed, imagining this was going to be someone who wanted to be friendly and nice, and not someone he could take some aggression out on. And he had a lot of aggression, which he doubted would ever really be cleared of. He was just a grump these days, with no outlets because he kept himself locked away. This was actually the first time he had been off of his property for some time.

Too long, maybe, but in other regards maybe not long enough.

"What are you doing?" He barked, not getting the same memo about not making noise or drawing attention. He folded his arms over his chest, though he did not banish his weapon just yet. As it stood, it looked like a part of his uniform anyway. For what very few parts there were: he was largely comprised of a bare chest and Egyptian themed accessories.

"Don't you know its dangerous to approach strangers? What? You think you can trust me because of my aura?"

"I am not someone who would ever need help from someone like you." Luxor said blandly, though there was no derisive grin or cocky attitude. It was something he saw as a fact: he knew how strong he looked, and he knew how strong he really was. There was no reason he needed help from anyone, anymore. And he did not want it.

Connecting to others, giving a part of one's self to them, was just a good way to lose that part forever.

"And you are not a danger to me, so I can approach you if I see fit."

He clenched his fist, then charged. So he had no reason to attack this stranger. Who cared? There wasn't a principles office to be called to, no supervisor or boss that would fire him for his misbehavior. There were no consequences to anything, except to losing a fight. He pulled his fist back and swung hard, not holding back despite being a fully ranked knight, aiming for a face he was hoping to break.

The very angry knight stood still for a moment, watching his target and nothing else as he let the magic swirl. He knew what senshi attacks could do, but what harm would it really be to someone who had already lost everything? This feeling welling in him, it was not something new to him. Loneliness? That was his existence.

Ever since she went away. He had nothing. No one. He was fully alone, and he hated every moment of it.


But did nothing to change it.

The magic made him remember all that anger tied to the feelings that left him drinking himself into a stupor every night, or going out and picking fights with the most dangerous looking foes he could find. Powered down or not. Youma or Nega. Chaos or White Moon.

Nothing mattered.

Clenching his gloved fist, the knight of Pluto snarled.

"You're a fool. You think you're tough because you can hide behind magic? You're just as alone as I am!" He charged, pulling his fist back again and swinging again for the same, softened spot. His magic flared through his weapon, his glove. It caused confusion with contact. He hadn't used it in his last attack, but this time he cared even less.

Luxor watched as the other seemed to take a dose of his confusion magic. Good. It was useful for some things, though before he had never found it all that good in a fight. Perhaps because he had fought differently back then, when he cared about hurting others, and when he wanted to make some sort of difference.

Now he knew better. He knew there was no difference to be made. In the end, they were all the same, and they would all end up the same.

Pointless. There was nothing to be won. There was no point fighting for a reason. So he decided to fight for his own sake. Because he could. And he wanted to.

He wanted others to hurt.

He wanted this kid to hurt.

Charging forward again, he pulled his fist back for another attack. He did not care that he was already down, having no sense of honor any more, and swung for him as hard as he could. All he wanted to do now was damage. He knew it would snap him out of his daze, but what did that matter? Even as he was swinging his fist he was readying his stance to follow up with a swift kick to the senshi's gut.

Luxor watched as the confused, battered senshi got to his feet and made to escape, not chasing after him. he had no reason to hunt the other down, thinking fate would do that just fine on its own. After all, fate made fools of them all, in the end, if he was meant to believe anything. Which he was ultimately not sure he did.

He was not sure he felt anything, anymore.

Even after that brutal fight, he was left standing there feeling alone and hollow. Was it lingering magic that held him, or was this how it would always feel, no matter what he tried to do with or for himself? He had no goals, no purpose. No meaning. There was no reason for him at all to be so cruel to a stranger, particularly one on his side, but he had.

He felt no remorse.

Grunting in displeasure, shaking his hand out after clasping it so tightly, he turned to walk in another direction. Maybe there were more voices, more fights, out there that might shake him awake. Remind him who he was or allow him to be someone new.