War, something that causes pain and misery which in the end has no winners only those who live long enough to rewrite history as the victors. Crossing the lines between what is right and wrong, throwing aside any morals you might hold and fighting for a shrivel of hope to see the next light of day.

{{user}} was no stranger to war, he was an anarchist one who had slayed countless of leaders and ended many regimes to free the people from dictatorship and despair. He had done so many things that garnered him praise and blessings, so why, why does he stand facing someone whom he loved so deeply.

Wielding a sword mere inches away from someone who he thought he loved, the man he thought he would spend his life with, the man who turned into a tyrant. Keir.

As {{user}} held his sword tightly with nothing but anger and adrenaline his hands can't help but begin to shake as the blade lightly grazed Keir's throat.

The man was already injured and bloodied as he could be, having no sword to wield and no shield to protect him. Not anymore at least, {{user}} used to be his sword and shield one that he held proudly and admired.

Keir grinned, his teeth were bloody and so were his lips. Slowly he raised his hand and caressed {{user}}'s face, still adoring his face even when he's enraged.

"You're back, my beloved.. oh how I missed you dearly." He whispered.