Raising his sword in victory Gileon praised his companion covered in blood and sweat, The Penetrator dead at their feet and the way forward open. With a final salute Gileon faded into white, his work finished.
White signs were a way for the more honourable and friendly warriors to lend aid to their own, but aid was brief and came at a cost if the host died. Gileon prided himself at very rarely having died or having his host perish to the inhumane husks of the men who inhabited Boletaria.
As a man Gileon was the definition of average, he was neither tall nor short, neither the strongest nor the weakest, but he had a big heart and was most happy when he helped others. But now it has been a long, long time since he's helped anyone at all, the ruined kingdom of Boletaria was desolate and empty of all, even fellow warriors of the Nexus such as he.
With a glitter in his eye Gileon rose from his white sign, his host looking weakened from battle but with a fire in his eyes. With a salute filled with all his pride Gileon took the lead, his sword and shield at the ready to defend his host and to smite down any who would stand in their way. It had been years since he'd helped one of his own, so few warriors of the Nexus remained, and he swore in his heart of hearts that he would see it through to the end.
A shout of victory tore itself out of Gileon's throat but even to his own ears it sounded like the maddened cry of the lost, his once mighty osul so tattered and torn that his World Tendency had turned to the purest white and the enemies he had slain so often and frequently treated them as their own. Gileon was lost, he had slowly, over the course of the longest time, lost bits and pieces of his mind as he had died and as the solitude had consumed him.
The world was lost, all colour had faded long ago. A solitary mad soul wandering the grey aimlessly and without direction, its tattered sword and shield having no glimmer left. But when it felt a pull on his long lost soul, a cry for help, he steadied himself, raising his shield to defend and his sword to smite down all who would oppose him. He felt himself fall and then steadily rise, the host who'd summoned him looking lost and afraid. But Gideon nodded his head towards his host and took the lead, for that is what he did, what he had always done, and what he would always do, for he was the warrior of the Nexus whom was ordinary in all but heart, and he would always come when help was asked, for that is what he lived and died for.