Another shorter update today, but I find them eaisier to write. The next chapter will be the end of the introduction, and chapter 6 will take place of symphonia, or is there a differant name for Sylvarant and Tethe'alla combined. As for Lloyd situation, I'm open to suggestions. I'm really horrible at writing romance, so I'm going to begin with a pre established relationship. Pairing ideas are welcome, but be warned, the lives of every character from the game will be touched by the coming plague and I will be taking Character. (But not Kratos so there is no need to get Lloyd and Noishe; one of which is dead in Chapter 7 anyways)
I don't own ToS, if I did I woulf have included a bonus chainsaw weapon that is super effective against Kvar.
Soldiers screaming, blades flashing, mud and blood staining his clothes; the memories of the Kharlan War ignited in Kratos's mind like fireworks. That war was the last time Kratos had seen blood in such mass quantities, until now.
The blood plastered the walls and ceiling of the hallway, but this blood had sadistic grins and promised death. The demons were unearthly still, they looked as dead as the skeletons they emulated. Their sharp claws hung uselessly at their sides and in this calm Kratos realized what these demons really were. "They're the victims of the plague," the angel whispered. He had suspected it from the beginning, the evidence was all there and Kratos possessed far more intelligence then his son, but he had refused to accept the reality. The creatures rose from the undestroyed corpses of the victims. The blood was supplied from the broken pox and the creatures sharpened their own claws and teeth, that's why they were so crude. They probably only had wings because angels had wings.
Kratos eyes fell on several freshly created demons. They still wore the rags that were once their uniforms, their claws were only starting to develop points and flesh still hand from their bones. "O, Martel," Kratos felt physically sick for the first time in years. The demons that had only recently risen wee the most horrible of all of them. In their still state the similarities between them and the angels that had massed behind the Seraphim were countless, and worst of all, they seemed to appear more powerful then those that had come before them. They were evolving.
Drawing his sword Kratos stepped into the hallway. If I die here, at least I tried. Motioning for his angels to follow he began advancing towards the hoard of beasts that blocked his path, had tightening around the hilt of his blade, sweat dripping from his brow and panic rising. Only seconds earlier Kratos had been nearly torn in half by just one of these things and now he was taking on several huundered with a couple of near useless angels as backup. This is suicide, even more so then the self destruct. Kratos was ready to turn, ready to leave, it was possible they would go away, but he couldn't allow himself to do that. He had to push forward, he had to reach Lloyd.
The name echoed through his mind. Lloyd. It gave him strength, it gave him the strength to continue wawlking, to continue towards the mass of blood and bone.
The beasts had consideratly left a narrow path down the middle of the chamber, just wide enough for Kratos and his angels to pass through without touching the lethal blood. That is, if the demons decided not to wake up. That is, if they were asleap and this wasn't some sort of trap.
Focused on Lloyd Kratos began thinking of all the aspects of his sons life. He probably had finished collecting the exspheres by now, or had come as close as the world was going to let him. His house was probably made by himself, likely in Iselia, or maybe Luin. Lloyd had taken quite an interest in the city when he learned his mother was born there. And, he was probably married. Kratos knew that Colette and Lloyd had been friend the longest, but Shenna and Lloyd had taken an immediate liking to each other. Who knows, Lloyd may have found a girl that Kratos didn't know, whoever it was Kratos was excited to discover who his daughter in law was. Excitement, that was an emotion he hadn't felt in ages. Lloyd probably had his first child by now, it would be good to see his grandson or daughter, maybe he would grow a beard to appear more grandfatherly. The thought of himself with a beard caused the angel to burst into laughter, which is when he realised that he was already well into the tunnel surrounded by the exangelic monstrocities.
Seconds later they began to stir, awakened by the laughter, some unfolded their wings, others dropped down from the ceiling. In mere seconds every angel that had accompanied Kratos had been shreaded, torn apart in a frenzy of claws and teeth.
A disembodied wing landed several feet from Kratos, twisted into a heart like shape and drenched in blood. Seconds latter, one of the demons leapt onto the wing and hugged it close to its body. Kratos watched as the wings became paler, lost the last of their life, the blood drained from them. The demon had absorbed it, at it appeared that its thirst was yet to be quenched. "Fuck," was all the absolutly horrified Seraphim could manage to say, fear was a forign emotion to the angel and he was reduced to his most primative instincts, fight or flight.
Shething his sword and unfurling his glittering wings, Kratos took off down the hallway at supersonic speeds, away from an advancing sea of blood, bone and disembodied grins. "Damn these emotions," was the only thoght that Kratos had.