The Devil's Infantry ~P, NK~

Before Altar had been given the mercy to vocalise his thoughts and his feelings, another image strayed into his thoughts haphazardly.. A series of of concrete buildings crumbled, giving in to their titanic weight as fires raged around the village that was sectioned off by the ocean. Many bodies laid broken and immobile, some contorted in odd ways that were inhumanely possible. This was the result of a rebellion.. that was the possibility of what could happen if Altar was to remain alive today. No matter how faint the flame burnt in the heart of the Shinkou.. there was always the possibility of it raging into an inferno of passion to destroy Xyxer. How could he trust him to not drag the entire village into this debacle when he'd enlisted the usage of multiple genin and Ren? An act against himself was passable, but against his village.. Xyxer couldn't allow Kirigakure to be brought to ruin again.

He inhaled sharply as Altar started to begin his plea, with some modicum of hope that he'd say something to soothe the demon inside. He'd taken so much from Aryll and Haru already.. did he truly have to snuff the life of the man that wanted him dead? It wasn't that he truly cared about Altar, nor his death, but the effect he'd have on others. If he was to remain alive, a few people would be happier, but with a chance of a civil war erupting from his treacherous nature. That possibility could be eliminated entirely if he killed the male right here and right now.. nobody else would have to die in a trivial crusade other than Ren and Altar.

Deja vu struck Xyxer as familiar words were being repeated.. and Xyxer was almost certain that Ren had shared the same sentiment moments before his beating. A coup planned in the best interest of Kirigakure.. Altar stated that he could not be sure of the people's safety around him if he was to torture his own shinobi. He believed Xyxer was.. terrible enough to harm a simple civilian on no merits? A foolish thought, but it gave a glimpse into his mentality. His eyes met Xyxer's soon afterwards as the predator started to size Altar up for what may be the last chapter of their long and fruitful rivalry.

Altar continued to explain why he should remain alive, that the brief intimacy they had shared earlier had obliterated any desire to create a rebellion against him.. to harm the people of Kirigakure, ironically, in his conquest for them. Perhaps.. these words could have seemed genuine to Xyxer if there seemed to be anything on the boy's face.. but he couldn't read anything. He was stoic. Accepting of death. Xyxer's hands tightened around the hilt of Samehada. He didn't need the male to be neutral at this point in time.. it meant he didn't truly understand the nature of the situation he was in. From everything Xyxer had witnessed, Altar had never been able to repress his emotions.. yet he happened to finally be doing it when they were needed for his survival. Perhaps it was a cruel trick from the gods that governed man, or even the bijuu inside that wished only for it's sweet release.

Xyxer rolled his neck a little to provide some warmth through the flesh while cracking a few bones. It'd been a long time coming, they both knew. Altar's answer had not been worthy enough of a chance to live.. to grant himself another chance in this village. "That's not good enough." The demon stated simply, preparing himself to swing the monstrous blade towards what could be seen as his mirror image.. although edgier, of course.

A flit of emotion would race through the boy's eyes, tearing through his facial features as the tyrant shifted his weapon. Fear and tinges of sorrow made their way onto the boy's face. His purpose was not to die here. His purpose was... well, in truth, he hadn't quite found it yet. But i was not to die here.

He would not die here.

Desperation wrapping it's fingers around the young ANBU, the boy would attempt to raise his voice again, his eyes flitting between the tyrant before him and the lifeless body of Ren. And then, something happened. Perhaps it was an aftereffect of being trapped in the Tsukiyomi for so long. Perhaps it was the last straw that broke the proverbial camel's back, the death of the last friend he had. Perhaps it was the bijuu, or Kalamity, finally taking their major toll on the boy.

But something inside him shattered. His mind ceased to function. And like Justice herself wrapping a blindfold around his eyes, his judgement in that instant became blind. Perhaps clouded by the sheer desire to live, or something greater. Something more sinister.

Somewhere deep inside him, his emotional capacity died. The boy's face would blanch as the feeling of...well, feeling, disappeared, before returning to a slightly sorrowful look, something almost resembling regret shading his features. It was the most he could manage right now. The boy would lower his head once more, his head bowing to the kage. That...was what was right.

"Xyxer. Enough of this back and forth. If it has always been my emotions that dictated my actions, my actions that have failed you and gave rise to this petty coup, then so be it. I forego them. They hold no control over me anymore." the boy would say, his position unwavering.

"I will tell you once more. My allegiance now lies firmly with you, as it should have from the start, and I will perform any task you deem necessary to prove that. Ren...was a poor soul who went over the top and found himself unable to reel back. I will not share the same fate. And as I find myself refusing that, the emotions that held absolute dictation over me for so long slip away. Is that not what you've wanted of me, Xyxer? ANBU should not feel." the boy would continue, a look of understanding now replacing the regret.

"They should not feel. They should act, and act on the whim of the kage. So, what will it be, lord kage?"the boy would wait, inability gripping him. All he could do now was wait for the judgement to be passed.

A predator's eyes were always keenly aware of the prey within the vicinity.. they always studied their environment to see any leverage they could get over others.. but they studied the living more than that. They wanted to know what they could take from them, or how they could be of use.. they studied their body language, their expressions.. a fearful boy with trembling knees was more likely to be bullied than a confident, stalwart child. As the predator in this scenario, Xyxer noticed Altar's attempt to recreate the vibe he himself imposed upon others.. he wanted to replicate the Abysswalker, but that simply could not be done by him.

His hand ran through his hair momentarily while Samehada remained resting on his shoulder, much akin to what he did seconds before he caved in the skull of his friend. His fingers parted strands of blue hair, feeling the thickness of his luscious locks as the boy continued to speak about why he should live. Why he deserved to survive over his companion. Loyalty was not a strong trait for this one.. that was common in those that had been raised within the walls of Tengakure. None of them were loyal. A village of traitors that bred nothing but contempt.

As Altar finished his tirade on why he should be granted the gift of life from the Mizukage that had already given him so much, Xyxer himself would finish running his hand through his hair. It now rested on the hilt of Samehada, twisting slightly to enable him more grip on the hilt. His grey eyes seemed to carry the light from outside within them, glinting with menace as the sword was heaved from his shoulder in a single, large arc towards the skull of Altar, his final words to the boy..

"You've never been my ANBU"

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand

And eternity in an hour.

Years can flit by in sheer seconds. Time can slow for those experiencing it.

As Altar finished speaking, there was a shrill sound that hurt his ears, and suddenly, everything was black. And then, there was her. The familiar blonde hair and blue eyes. The unfamiliar look of disappointment. Nekoda. Was she...was she all he would have left? Why did that make him...feel afraid? The girl looked down at him from a shorter stature, something that really should have been impossible. Yet she made it seem so easy. So feasible. He could feel the animosity, the tension as a result of what had just happened. His feelings, the one thing he had that kept him tethered to reality and life as a human being, had just vanished. Or so he had tried so hard to make them. They were what kept him constrained. Why he was tortured. Why he was hated.

He knew she meant well when she hit him. A single slap across the face. She held no physical power here. She was a manifestation in his mind. But it stung nonetheless. "What are you doing? Committing to something so foolish so easily?"

"But-"

"You're an idiot, Altar! You've tried to throw away what makes you unique. What separates you from the rest and gives you power. What makes you different from him." the angel said, turning her back on the boy. Her concern came from the best place possible. She was the literal manifestation of everything good inside him. Perhaps that was why she looked so haggard.

"Isn't that what-"

"No! It's not! Look at where you are now. The last friend you had is dead beside you at his hand. Are you really trying to be like him? He's not your fucking hero, Altar!" the angel said, turning back around, a vivid fire in her eyes. A hero. HIS hero.

Flashes of everyone he knew and loved flitted before his eyes. His father, as much of a monster as he was, had his good and caring side. Haru had always been there, acting like the father he never had, looking out for him. Youta had shown him how to love. Ren had thrown his life, one of the brightest the young ANBU had seen, to the dogs because he had faith. And oddly enough...

There was Xyxer. He hated the man. Hated the cold blooded fiend. The tyrant. But perhaps the hate was necessary. Xyxer was the world. A cruel reminder of what reality they lived in. If you weren't strong, didn't fit the program, it chewed you up and spat you out. Life was so easily taken, light so easily snuffed. Perhaps, in some fucked up way, Xyxer was a martyr of sorts. The psychopath put you through hell so you knew to expect it from everywhere else. The boy knew that was the furthest thing from the tyrant's mind, but the thought was nice. Oddly comforting, somehow. Perhaps, if they had met earlier, if Altar had gotten close to the man before the monster, they could have been friends. But the human was gone now, swallowed whole by the demon that ruled the mist. And the path he walked now was his own. There was no place for a follower down it.

The images gone, the boy's gaze returned to Nekoda. "That is not you, Altar, and it will never BE you. You've come too far as yourself to try to be anyone else. Never forego yourself to live the life of another. Lies beget lies."

And with that piece of wisdom, she disappeared, and the boy returned to reality. The seconds passed were slim, if any.

The demon had raked a hand through his hair, and now shifted his grip on his weapon. And as he did such, everything came crashing down on Altar in reality. He was no immortal. His friend lay dead next to him, the last piece of anything good hearted raised in the bloody mist gone. He was about to share the same fate.

Why was his face wet?

The tyrant would just now be starting to swing as the boy would slump slightly to the ground, a sob escaping his lips as the will to kneel before his kage left his body. The tears came easy and easier to the point it was hard to see through them. The slumped boy would cast a look to the body of Ren, barely visible through his wet eyes, a pained cry raking itself from his throat. He was in no condition to stop. He was in no condition to resist.

The will of the tyrant was absolute, it seemed, if his friend's body was anything to judge by.

If the blade hadn't impacted and parted his skull by some grace by now, the boy would scramble slightly, crawling his way to the ruined body of his now lost friend, pulling the boy's limp corpse into his lap, the boy's sobs turning to choked murmurs and yells of the deceased boy's name. The tears showed no sign of stopping, the only penance he could offer to the boy he had inadvertently killed. Another name to the list. Another grave to dig. Another loss to mourn. But not one to forget, should he torture himself like he had with the others. How many more lives would his foolish whims take? His own?

Well, that was to be seen.

If there was ever a truer invocation of the Demon, the spirit of the Mist that compelled Xyxer, perhaps it would be in this very moment. Slaughtering traitors brought a grim satisfaction to the lips of the beast, which was perhaps an irony given it's track record for friendly fire. He'd killed so many allies that he'd started to lose count.. the blue colours of Kirigakure mired by the red vision of the beast. Although Xyxer would never outwardly vocalize it.. he did enjoy the slaughter of all. Regardless of whether it was foe, ally, or neutral. When blood flowed, there was a calm throughout him. Perhaps that was why he collected such monstrous trinkets.. the infamous living blade of Kisame Hoshigaki.. the Bijuu that overwhelmed Kisame. Both creature of ill repute.. their names alone sowed fear in shinobi. After all, to wield Samehada, it was known that the owner must have killed another powerful ninja.. It was a dog eat dog world, and with this arsenal.. Xyxer was an almighty leviathan.

As such, he had the privilege of being able to choose when and where he wished to kill. The leviathan did not care for the petty whims of the people. The merciful cries of the wretched. It cared only for it's own gluttony and pride, and seeing the tears of Altar brought it more satisfaction than he cared to admit. To see everything he had developed feelings towards crumbling.. it was exhilarating for the onlooker. Xyxer demanding he harmed Youta had hurt him.. Youta's death had left a scar in his mind that would never heal.. Haru's incarceration tested his resolve.. but Ren's death was the one that broke him. Perhaps it was how close he was to the boy.. could he smell the musty scent that the corpse emitted as it started to enter the stages of rigor mortis. 

The leviathan's desire to watch the man truly break granted him a few extra moments of life should he choose not to further satisfy the creature. The destination of Samehada altered slightly before it struck the left shoulder of Altar with a thunderous crack; his left shoulder caved in with the arm and a few ribs shattering from the powerful strike. Altar would be thrown downwards roughly as if he was just struck by a bus, his own face crashing downwards into the exposed brainmatter of Ren so that the mastermind could enlighten the ANBU even after his death. Would he get a mouthful of his friend? Xyxer grimmed as the demon's satisfaction continued to rise, the sword pulled back and propped with the top against the ground. If the boy wished to live longer, he'd have to truly break. The leviathan hungered for a second victim on this day, and only Altar could subdue it's ravenous appetite.

+1

+1

The air gave way to the dreaded titan of the sea. Somewhere far off, there was a whistle as a grotesque blade cut through the stagnant reek of death. If Altar had had his senses about him, perhaps the boy would be reeling over the building stench exuding from the lifeless body of his once friend. Perhaps he would have heard and cared about the blade arcing through the air.

But the boy was lost, not even in his own world. Too adrift in emotion to take notice of reality.

But it in turn was reality that forced itself onto him with a thud and a sickening crack. Blinding pain shot through the boy's left side and he let out a noise of primal agony, raw anguish mixing with the horrid emotion of sorrow. Cries of pain and bitter agony reared themselves from the boy, momentarily halted by the floorboards and, surely enough, the horrid remains of his friend's head. The young ANBU would rebound from the floor, the body of Ren now shifted in his lap. The familiar taste of copper mixed with something somewhere between subterranean and aquatic. Liquid and something gelatinous in his mouth.

The boy would gag and retch slightly, bile rising from his stomach to his throat as he spat the blood and matter from his mouth, doing his best to push himself away from his friend's body. If he survived the encounter, perhaps he'd call it respect for the deceased. In reality, the boy just wanted distance from the pain, the suffering and the sorrow.

The distance he'd never had his entire life. The distance he never would have.

The boy's emotions continued running rampant, a tinge of disgust now mixed in that he had had the displeasure of tasting gray matter. Amid cries of pain and sorrow, with a face wet with tears, blood and god knew what else, the boy shake his head back and forth to no one in particular. His vocal cords were worn by now. Any words spoken would be lost amidst the noise.

Perhaps this was the dreaded plunge into the abyss he'd been holding off for so long. The tether to his own emotional capacity was frayed, snapping to send him further, to the point of no return. His judgement was no longer simply clouded. It was erased from his mind, completely overshadowed and overrun by the horrors he faced now. Such was the state of his mind. Nothing existed in that moment but what he felt. The sorrow of loss. The immense pain. Disgust and vivid anger. His mind was turmoil, shattered completely. And perhaps that was the plot of the tyrant.

The boy lay in a ruined pile, the shattered half of his body slumped just slightly off angle of the rest. His cries continued, but he found himself unable to do anything more. He was unable to think of anything more. The image of a broken man, of ever there was one. But was that what the beast desired? Or had this all been some sickening game?

Was the nightmare to cease? Or had it only just begun?

Dead eyes watched the male as he twitched in the remains of his brother-in-arms, the brain of the male covering his face almost entirely and Xyxer could swear he saw some of it even enter his mouth.. would that be the birth of a Wendigo right here?  His breath quickened for a second.. the potential of such a manifestation would be unrivaled. The strongest Wendigo to be sure.. for now. To eat the remains of your friend in such a broken state.. now that'd just be barbaric. 

From behind the cold eyes came a glint once more, his lips lifting upwards in a jagged smile that revealed the razor teeth of the demon. He was a member of the Seven Swordsmen after all, and the appearance of a demon was very important to maintain the presence of one. He was growing increasingly interested in the event unfolding before him.. now he could drop his mask momentarily. The mask of a leader that dealt pain only for the benefit of his village.. for the Leviathan enjoyed this sacred moment between the two. 

The jester and the king.

Altar had pranced around the village for far too long, erecting a notorious skyscraper to remind him of his home as if he deserved the right to do so. Calling himself a member of the ANBU Corps while he had no respect for the Mizukage.. now was the time for Xyxer to punish him for these matters. Not only by breaking his body.. but by breaking his mind. The next act was sure to accomplish that.

Crouching down with his sword still in his grasp, his hand shifted into his own pocket as Xyxer started to speak, "From what Gyuki is telling me, you're a lucky guy now.. or at least, you should be. Minus the broken arm, dead friend and all that rubbish, right? Let's put it to the test." He revealed a single coin, with a heads and tails for the purpose of the game, which he'd then hand to Altar's good hand. "Flip it. If it lands on heads.. I bash your head in like your friend. Lands on tails, you get to leave this meeting with your tail between your legs? Sound good? Sounds perfect." Xyxer would stand back up now, readying Samehada by lifting it to his shoulder before the coin was flipped. After all, he wanted to be ready.

This was Altar's moment after all.. it had to be flawless. Show us the luck of Chomei.

From a village destruction to your main destruction:

[1 = Heads 2 = Tails, also don't do the coin flip when I'm not online and watching in case a mod deletes it to save your ass lil man]

The tyrant said something about the boy being lucky. Amidst the myriad noises in his senseless drift, he wasn't sure he made it out right. But, the man produced a coin, and Altar got the gist of the situation. Heads, he died. Tails, he lived. The man pressed the coin into Altar's right hand, the usable one, and lifted the nightmarish blade to his shoulder.

Fate had never been kind to the boy. Loss and bad luck were all he had experienced. It was unlikely the coin toss would go his way. Yet, the lucky beast buzzed with delight. A game of chance was his expertise. Almost against his will, the boy's hand shifted and the coin found itself on top of the boy's thumb, the appendage flicking upwards and sending the coin flipping through the air, catching it in his hand on it's way back down before flipping said hand and placing it on the ground. The boy would relish his safe moment, before the beast's influence once again forced his body to move, his hand lifting to reveal...