"E- Eon…" Brennan Bosque, as the king of Bosque, had never before been faced with such a dangerous situation. Though at the peak of the B-class, Brennan had not once trained outside of the palace. As much as he boasted he at least had wits to make up for this shortcoming… he was lacking in will.
The moment he saw his hands turn dark and broody, gray and lifeless. The skin rotting and falling. As soon as he saw the face of death in the mirror of his grand room, Brennan was scared out of his wits.
But it was justified. The petrified and putrid face reflected in the mirror was not of death, but of his own. In spite of all of the things that happened around him, Brennan could only see his reflection.
That reflection with sunken eyes. Skin chapped and bloody. Hair disheveled and fallen. It wasn't the face of a living person but that of a zombie. Most of all, it was a testament to his inevitable race towards death.
