She began to walk through the open field of battle
Not noticing what perdicament she was in.
She watched as the soldiers fell, falling into puddles of their own flesh,
Their weapons being picked up by wandering allies.
Nothing was too pleasing about this specific "Warfare" against the galaxy and what was beyond
What mattered was was that The Condescension got what she wanted.
No one disobeyed her,
Not even the humans or highbloods.
The computer-tech like etches on her face pulsed a crimson color,
As she watched with her midnight black eyes,
Mixed with the most carmine of red,
The Soldiers fall.
And lose their bets, wits, money, fame, everything,
Just to get everything the way it was before.
No SBURB.
No contact with the trolls.
Their deaths never happened, no.
John never became the Heir of Breath
Dave never became the Knight of Time
Jade never became the Witch of Space
And Neither Rose become the Seer of Light.
This is all a horrible nightmare,
Mistakes had been made
Deaths had been seen.
No one was safe anymore,
Not even Jane, who was considered fairest of them all.
The tricksters had been nothing more than a mere thought,
Jack Noir apparently being Lord English may not had been true,
But had it been true, No one was for sure.
All everyone knew was,
This game was a mistake from the start.