As the morning sun rose from the east, a desolate battle could be seen as a man holding a cresent shaped blade was left standing, with baited breath those men of his stopped their fighting as they what they saw enemy commander down. The enemy stopped too as their hearts leaped from their chest as their emperor was left defeated. Yet in a split second their perspective changed.
To the left of the man laid bodies bare, arms and legs piled high with their dead mouths agape why? because they didn't even realise how they died.
To the right, stood he, he the man who was so dispised wars were waged, rivers flowed crimson red and tumltous storms ravaged the seas. The man who felt god's rath, the man who sacrificed everything for the people he loved, who fought and toiled to prevail against the insurmountable odds stacked against him. Black hair flowing in the graceful wind as the sun light hits his eyes allowing the beauty of his green eyes to shine, squared jaw line as sharp as a fine blade equalling looks that no man could equal a man by who all accounts is a heaven sent beauty. One knee on the cold desolate ground atop the hill of the battlefield, one leg still crouched as he supports his weight on his single edged blade a body full of a thousand wounds, the results of a hard battle, he breathed hard and fast the cold air seemed to escape his nostrils.
The crecsent shaped blade held in the other man's hand fell, a clang sounded out stopping the rest of the battle. The man looked down at his blade in a daze, he looked to his right only to see the man he hated so still breathing. His last thoughts shall never be known but most could speculate that they go along the lines of something like "Fuck".
The beautiful man stood tall, he raised his arm aloft with his sword striking a pose of a triumphant King and a King he was. a King of all men those of all races and creeds, he who stood tall and faced every foe with a steeled look could proudly say he was the strongest, the bravest. The only man to defy heavens will, the only man who could stand and win against Gods.
A man who has rose to Godhood a man who once the victory cries of his empires army cried for the last and final time as he ushered in a new era of peace. He who could finally reflect on all his hard work and the loves of his life that he worked so hard to protect finally smiled and in the instant he could no longer hear the cries of his men singing his glorious name nor could he see the battlefield on this scorched earth, no for he could only see the people who raised him, the friends he had made and lost and all the sad times he had to bare to be who he was now and finally seeing the beauty in the world with his wives, he who thought he could never love was proven time and time again how wrong he truly was.
As the man's famous blade fell and pierced the earth with such ferocity it cracked the bed beneath, lodging itself in the earth until another worthy master came. He fell on his knees for one last time, raised his head to the sky, eyes pierced the clouds, sky and stars to stare at the man who he had finally beaten the God who clutched him within hands of fate which he had forcibly ripped himself from and flipped him the bird and for the last time in his life he smiled and breathed his last.
His final thoughts being the very famous last words
"Huh... I died" .