War.
That was the cause of all this madness. It no longer mattered who started the war; the Black Order only sought to end it.
Allen sat in the corner of the dining hall, with an idle expression. The usual cheeriness and good-natured bickering in the dining hall had been replaced with an impenetrable gloom. Everyone was affected by it, including Lenalee and Lavi, who sat absentmindedly across the table from Allen. He then looked at the haggard faces of his comrades, and saw that they, too, were lost in their own thoughts. He needn't have asked what they were thinking. Everyone's thoughts in the dining hall were hardwired on the same frequency level.
Allen sighed, and inquired silently to himself about where the little happiness the world had kept had gone. He wondered if he could tread back on the road he had walked on, and somehow find his way back to the home he once knew and loved so much. He sighed again, and knew it was impossible. He could not turn back on the path he created, or, perhaps, the path that Mana created for him. …Damn. Mana again. At this point, Allen became so immersed in his own thoughts that he did not perceive the intensifying glare of Kanda's eyes behind his head.
"Oi, Bean Sprout."
Allen's head snapped up upon hearing the familiar nickname. He turned around and looked up at the looming figure before him. Lenalee and Ravi stared dully at Kanda. They knew what of the news he brought.
Knowing that he had their attention, Kanda turned swiftly in the opposite direction and began a business-like walk towards the exit.
"Let's go."
Allen took in the last spoonful of his dinner and looked at the hollow eyes of his friends.
More blood will be spilt this night.