Who the hell was he?
In the darkness of the night with the crescent moon as the only source of light, there were two people walking toward the direction of the palace through the woods. With Caius beside him, Aragon thought quietly down the path they took.
Who the hell was he? Dried blood covered his face. His eyes bore into the ground, repeating the same thing in his mind over and over again. He might be King, but it didn't mean anything at this point to him. What's the use of being so powerful if he cannot have what he truly wants?
Why so powerful with no one? It had been a very lonely journey.
A presence was felt just by their left, and Caius both turned to see Zoan walking. He didn't look the least bit interested in them and just kept coming as they were too. He was looking like someone trying their hardest not to yell at the sun, Caius could feel that boiling energy coming from him even though his eyes were bland.