The scenery of the city below was familiar. The streets of London. It was near midnight, and there were very few people currently wandering the empty streets. Little to no activity, a stark contrast to what it was like just a few nights before, when they had originally gathered. Now, once again standing upon the Big Ben, they were reunited. However, it wasn't any move of theirs that had brough them together. These 5 individuals always acted independently, and nearly nothing would bring them together.
Except for the witch.
She was the one uniting factor in this group. The one that kept everything together.
She was the one that had blessed these five with their powers. She was the one that had shared her love upon them and given them a single order.
"Follow me, for I am your savior."
At the very lowest point in their lives, near death, considering death, considering giving up, leaving, stopping, abandoning, relinquishing, conceding, surrendering, yielding.
At that very point, where there was nothing that pushed them to go on, when it felt like the world was lost, and that nothing could save them, she appeared.
She was the height of a child, aged about 13, with long, white hair, that reached all the way down to her knees. She was dressed in a single white piece of fabric, which always flowed wildly in the wind when she appeared. Perfect, round eyes that matched the color of the sky.
That was her appearance.
She had been the one to save them, to give them the now powerful abilities they possessed. Their debt? Do everything in her stead. Complete her goals. Anything she said, will be done. No matter what it takes. No matter how many lives it costs. That was the truth behind it all. The thing that kept that ragtag group together.
And now, she had given them a new mission.
A new goal.
A new direction.
Find the next subject. The next person to receive her, "love."
The witch of Vainglory had Spoken, and her order would not be denied.
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Everything in the world, belonged to him. That was the belief of the man in the black suit. Everything that had existed, currently existed, and would exist. It all belonged to him. Because he was the one chosen by the witch. It was this singular reason that kept his way of life alive. Sure, she had chosen the others, but it wasn't with as much love as she had chosen him. He was the special one. He was the one in which the witch placed her faith in. Because of that, everything in the world belonged to him, because everything in the world belonged to her. He was the perfect match, the perfect fit, the one who was made for her.
The man in the black suit glanced upon the spire of the Big Ben, which had been destroyed by that barbarian of a man named wrath.
With just a snap of his finger, it was returned to its glorious original state, not a single sign of damage.
The man smiled.
This power that was given to him by the witch, it truly was something glorious. Anything that he wanted-no-deserved, would always be given to him. Because of his endless amounts of mana, there was nothing he couldn't create.
The man then reached into the air, and from it, he pulled out a cigarette. From just thin air. He lit it with a flame spell and took a glance up at the newly restored spire.
"Everything in this world belongs to me, because I am the only one loved by the witch."
He spoke.
With that, the man of limitless set out to satisfy the boundless abyss that was his desire.
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There was no point in overexerting yourself, in putting extra effort in, in none of that. At the end of the day, no matter what you do, it all leads to death. All of the actions that you take in life either prolong, or extend, that time. It was all pointless, and so, why try. In fact, the girl in the oversized hoodie once thought that it was all so pointless that she decided to end it all. If life just inevitably leads to death, why try and do anything else. Just end it all, that the fate that was coming for you always.
That was until she meets the witch. Blessed, saved by her, and granted with an ability that made sure that she never needed to do more than what was necessary. She had already walked down that path, trying you very hardest, and it only led her to dark places. And so, this power, this ability she was given, it was the perfect remedy.
The witch had saved her and fixed her. For that, she owed her, her own life. So, for that, she would always do whatever she willed, because she was loved by the witch.
"A sane person in an irrational world. A world that says, "try your hardest" even if its futile. Thats why this way is the best."
As she repeated these words to herself, she lazily raised her hand into the air, and the clock on the face of the Big Ben crumbled.
The one filled with sloth, continued to remain inactive.
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Desire, desire, desire. The girl in pink, Eve, only desired one thing. She softly caressed the picture of Raiden which she had kept on her at all times. It was perfect, it was so perfect. Not only did she love him, did she desire him, but so did the witch. The person who saved her. It could not be any more perfect.
She slowly raised her lips to the picture, kissing it.
It made her aroused, just looking at the image. Her Adam. Her perfect Adam.
It was right in front of her. She was going to get him.
The person she desired most, aside from the witch, the one who blessed her.
The person who had saved her from the hell she used to live in, and given her new life, taught the girl who didn't know love, how to love.
Not only would she be able to find her beloved, but she'd also be able to fulfill the witch's goals at the same time.
It was perfect!
"Thor, be ready!" A lightning bolt flashed behind her, and her bodyguard appeared.
"Love, pure love, I though it didn't exist, but here it is! Wait on me, my Adam."
And so, the one consumed by lust, had her sights set.
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Better than others. I was better than others. That's what the man in the white suit believed. Why was this so? Because he was the one who gained the favor of the witch. She had chosen him, blessed him with an ability, and it was because of that, it was due to that reason, that he was better than anybody else.
They were all ants, mites, vermin, rodents, that crawled beneath him. In comparison to himself, they were nothing.
The witch had given him this blessing, this reward, and now, he would do anything to keep it.
Her orders were gospel, her wills would become reality, her wants would always be achieved.
Because she was perfect.
A perfectly powerful being, who was gracious, who saved people.
She had saved him. From the confines of hell, the confine that was war.
There had been a point in this man's live where he had felt less than human. Worthless. Despicable trash.
However she had saved him and showed him that that was the most worthless thing you could possibly do.
She had saved him and given him a power that made him stand above the rest.
And because she had molded him into her image, he was also perfect. There was no doubt about it.
"There is nothing worse than someone who can't keep their ego down. Someone who pretends to be perfect. Anybody like that, is worthless trash. But at the same time, anybody who can't even respect they're on existence, is arguably even worse."
With that, the White Knight of Pride leaped from the building, heading to his next goal.
The witch of Vainglory's, next goal.
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Destruction. That was the only way for change to be brought about. To just let go, that was not enough. To just set it aside, to say that you've changed, grown away from it, is not enough. Because if it is still in existence, then the temptation would always remain, because that is the truth behind human nature. If there is temptation, then man will always fall into it. So, because of that fact, everything that is old, that is not of use, must be destroyed; that is why he was blessed with this power.
The witch had seen his potential, and she had seen his vision. Because of that, she had granted him with the power to grant things the ultimate rebirth. That was his role in things. Her love for him, and his love for her would bring about a new world, one in which rebirth would be achieved. After all,
"Something must truly die, before it can truly be reborn."
As he said the words to himself, he reached out and touched the base of the big ben. Just then, the clock tower struck twelves.
There, the final chimes of the Big Ben had happened.
The bells rang out, as if in a cry of pain.
And then, the tower, fell.
It marked the start of their goal.
The siege, of Theta Magic Academy.