doomsday is close at hand

I’ll book the marching band to play as you speak

I’ll feel like throwing up

you’ll sit and stare like a goddamn machine

───── 𖦤 doomsday, lizzy mcalpine

Several wars had happened over the course of Prythian history, but nothing could prepare you for this one.

Hybern’s army was huge. They never stopped moving, striking faster and more strategically than expected. It didn’t help that your side was incredibly outnumbered against his warriors.

You had small hope of making it out alive.

Standing on the edge of the battlefield, you watch as his fleet approaches far in the distance.

In only a few moments, the battle would start. This might even maybe be the very last moments of your life— of your time with your friends.

Feeling nauseous and anxious about the oncoming fight and the thought that you may very well die in this battle, you glance over to Azriel at your side, searching for comfort, which… with one look at his face, you know you probably won’t receive any.

Contrary to you, Azriel is the epitome of calm. His gaze fixes on the approaching fleet, expression steely and eyes calculating. His face gives nothing away on how truly feels.

Deep down, he knew it himself that the chances of winning this battle was low.

But he wouldn’t let that plague him.

He was like a goddamn machine when it came to war.