Sirius sat atop the corpse of a shade, the neatest he could find amongst the dozens of lifeless bodies littered around him. His breathing was heavy, his eyes somewhat unfocused, staring at nothing in particular. His iridescent purple eyes gleamed brightly in the dim environment. His black and silver hair hung loosely behind him, stained with blood—none of it his own, but rather that of the gruesome foes he had vanquished.
In the faint light of the crystals above, his almost feminine beauty was illuminated, casting a captivating glow over his face. His pale pink lips parted slightly as he breathed, his gaze eventually falling on his sword, still slick with the blood of his enemies, all who now existed in the world only through the soul shards nestled within his soul, mere fragments of their former lives. They were ultimately doomed to be a great source strength for their murderer.
