The loss of all life inside the estuary brought about more minions of death and doom than he was able to handle.
His instincts had led him down this road, fighting every demon with righteous wrath and a Feral call to the God of heaven that appeared before him in his darkest moments.
All the sweat all the blood. All the loss and heartache that had strengthened his resolve had burned a hole in him that was hidden by rage and torn open by fear.
The road was in utter darkness for the way ahead had no end… no finish line.
The warrior’s sword slick with the sinew and death of the battles freshly won only to find more destruction with the next swing.
It was tiring, the endless darkness went on forever only to be ignited by the sheen of the blade as it made contact again with the next. The spray of blood brought fresh waves of heat and nausea to the worn down warrior.
It would be over soon, he couldn’t continue in this fight for much longer as he poured soul and sword into the oncoming destruction.
He knew there was nothing he could do. That the only way was to give up because the night would never end. It was never meant to end, he was never meant to survive.
Yet he strikes with all the fury and fear of a man with a different destiny. Of a man that believes there is a purpose to the slaughter.
He believes he can win even though there is no winning. There is only darkness and it will swallow him as soon as he submits. And then he will be free.
He does not see the freedom in the submission he only sees the failure.
As the Warrior stumbles and slips, the floor wet from the battles.
He trips and falls upon the ground as the minions gather to devour the kill they have been craving. The one that thought his light could break through.
The warrior who fought for years and years never sleeping or eating, never stopping. Beating back the plague of darkness that was born only to end him.
Now he stops unmoving save for the heavy falls of his breath from his ragged chest weathered and beaten from the unforgiving battle.
The light lost from his sword now taken in only by the darkness around him.
A foolish fight, by a foolish man. To believe he could change anything. His fight was for nothing and now he joins the nothing.
Because never was he more than nothing.
For all his belief and all his life, he could not overcome the night.