"This is it!" The grand exalt yelled, readying holy blade. "Our final battle!"

The grand tactician smiled. You're one of us, and no "destiny" can change that. The lord's words echoing in the tactician's mind.

"...Now let's kill this dastard and be done with it!" The blue haired lord said bombastically.

???? PHASE

The grand lord dashed forward, the holy blade emanating strength and from a blessed lineage. "All right, my turn!"

The tactician grinned. "You go get 'em, the dude!"

The sorcerer the two were fighting, gave a long, haughty laugh. "Why do you resist?"

The lord looked at the grand tactician. "Good, that dastard is almost in range." And then the lord, cape billowing, ran towards the vile sorcerer.

Another long winded laugh. "Fools! Struggle all you want!"

The lord jabbed at warlock, bringing it down past 50%.

(A grand tactician can see and realize that stuff. Very useful.)

The tactician flipped through the tome at hand — Seigseige, a simple electric tome.

And then fired.

The sorcerer dropped to the floor in confusion. Probably thinking 'How did those dastardly know?'

"This isn't over..." The lord and tactician heard the should-be corpse cry. The body lifted up. "DAMN YOU BOTH!!" A shot an orb of pure darkness at the exalt.

Quickly thinking, the loyal tactician pushed the dear lord away, taking the blow.

The exalt grabbed the tactician before anything to deathly, and sorcerer collapsed for good.

"Are you alright?"

"Do I..." a pause to breath, "...look alright to you...?"

"Not exactly." A glance back towards the corpse. "Well, that's the end of him."

"Fuck yeah," The tactician cursed. "Stick it to the man."

"Thanks to you, we carried the day." And then the great lord smiled - everything seemingly fine.

A sudden pulse of bood and pain pierced the small tactician's mind - and for a moment, someone else took over.

"Hey, hang on—" The Lord was cut off, as the "other" tactician took over, stabbing the Exalt right in the chest.

The Exalt stumbled backwards, paralyzed by the sudden pain and betrayal.

"This isn't your..." A cough as the wind was knocked straight out of the Prince. "....your fault. Promise me...you'll escape from this place. Please, go...." And a thud as the Exalt collapses onto the ground.

The sorcerer laughed, reverberating.

———

Robin had that dream again.

He's 21, and having weird dreams again.

He stood up, in gray pajama pants and a faded anime t-shirt.

He sighed. Today was the day.

What for? Ending his life, nothing to spectacular.