The greaves would have walked all one hundred acres it would seem. From alpha to omega of the vast cemetary. The gliding estelle of hellion obsidian hooded cloak trailed behind the demon, above a rift of air that painted the darkness of robes along ambient.

"Another day in the pewter science that the skies have to offer." he commented lowly, right before reach of the entrance, "I'll bid for my intrusion at a later date" his maw would speak to the finally resting spirits of the dead sea behind him. With motion, artful digits grasped along the edge bar of one of the gates, giving a soft, effortless pull towards him. The creaking sound would come as a final warning to the inhabitants of the city, as it was one last chance to find preparation before onslaught was unleashed at death's beckon.

"And so, the words of this article have reached the borders of Valhala." shimmered rich ruby ocules as they spun about intensely in their casings. Indifferent demeanor painted along the visage of the Empyreal. When the gate finally opened, onyx heeled greave pace felt the change between cobblestone, and dried tar concrete. In this entirety of hours, it seemed as if sunlight never touched the Graveyard. Well of course, why would it. Not with the presence of His liking in attendance.

"This Herald blasphemy has written its final chapter in the tome of their fate. The philosophers of old antics have sealed their prophecies, and an idle destiny has at last answered this call." the massive figure made its way through the entryway, "Too many centuries without blood spilt in the way it should be. With the sanguine excess as my brush, and the larva infested grounds of lore as the easel to this masterpiece."

"Alas, the hands of an occult touch down upon these crescent cobblestones." a slow, strong blink was given as visage turned in a cease of pace. The distraction of his attention was indirect, "And in due que, as if following the script to a key, the spirits of this place are in a rave... Come now, I don't suppose I was the one to upset them?" he spoke with a faint chuckle and sattire,

"My audience shows endearment," voiced narrowed cinnabar optics, "They are inlove with the demon. With the off character in this play." the edge of his stoic lips curl into what would seem as a smile, "Behold, dearly departed.... a glance at War himself." limbs upstretched as if seldom introduction, "The Devilin, Domitrix, Exodus". the words invaded the ambient, climbing to the moon that watched its light directly upon the Empyreal, only to have him smile a demonic expression in return.

As would the harmony of given steps stalk the darkness of the world, a hymn sung by few but known to all, crossed the land. It stepped with ease of onyx heeled greave pair. Step by step, note by note to this unforgettable orchestra. A slow yet convicted pace of a being scorned to the most sociopath of hearts and minds.

The digits of his matching plated gauntlet wandered in glide, as extended limb waltzed forward with the trek of the bodice, touching their tips along the ridges of tombstones. One by one, as they passed. All connected to the view of a massive figure. Or rather, if anyone can make it out. The silhouette of a hooded individual. Of a hidden demon. As if climax of music, the ruse in his step would offer the arrival of death upon the flora of the road, or so one would think. His invisible aura however, as of a power, of a strength that corners of the world have wished they've never witnessed.

"Mmm." hummed the crece of indifferent lips behind the darkened void of an obsidian visage. Ruby red ocules spun in revolution as they gazed out into the night sky. In volume of gesture, an exhale crept through his nostrils, of a crystal sheet mist, similar to the combination between a bull's nose-steam, and that view of the solar system from far off eye.

When mouth crawled ajar, the four finely sharpened incisors were introduced to the world, along with yet another crystal coated mist of a sigh, "Mmhmm..." slid another gesture from hellish maw of the God of War, as tips of armored fingers gathered dust and concrete erosion from the stones, "An idealist's fancy of a dream..." spoke an idle tone. A rasp volume just inches above a whisper. However, it had a firm bass to it, "To inform our dear king, of my arrival..."

" i am sorry" the voice sounded more sadden now as they look a last glance at the grave stone before the slowly started to walk away from it. they glanced around a bit as the fog started to cover the grave stone from the figuers view. There boots made no sound this time as they started to disappear into the late nights fog keeping there head down as they left.

the figure stoped at a grave stoon that was covered with moss and wild vines. They bened down looking at the grave as they used there left hand to remove the moss and vines. When they where done they retutrned there hand back to there side. There was a soft sigh as they kept looking at the grave stone. Thats when there was a voice coming from under the hood. " only if I knew the truth to what really happen to you." the voice sounded a bit sadden but there was also some angry with in the voice. They stood up as they sighed again softly still looking at the grave stone.

a figuer wearing a long black tattered cloak slowly made there way out of the fog. They made little sound as they slowly walked towards a tombstone that was far from the entrance. There face was hidden well behind the black tattered hoodbut a slight glen form there eyes could be seen from the right angle.the black boots that could be slightly seen under the cloak where covered with mud and leaves made a squashing sound as the figure walked through the grave yard.