Mercy never felt anger before.

Nor had she ever felt any sort of remorse, even when looking down at those bodies that littered the ground at her feet, some of them which she even recognized. They were deaths that were unavoidable, for they chose to continue following in Apollyon's path of destruction.

But why had she changed her course?

The Peacekeeper mulled the thought over in her mind, as she walked through the carnage left behind from the battle that came to change the very course of history of this war - torn land.

Oh yes, it was only logical of her to do so.

Davis Norrington was a strange one, but one who spoke of reason, unlike many of those around her who operated purely off of emotions: namely, Holden and Stone.

"You and I sworn an oath to fight for peace, but we've both became cogs of war!"

And it was true. Even her title reflected such. She was a Peacekeeper, the dancer of death that had kept the gears of war from turning with the edges of her blades. Perhaps she had been so before under the command of Apollyon, but at some point, she must have changed; carrying out her master's will as nothing more than just a assassin.

Hence, she went with him when he did leave the Blackstone Legion behind, just as Holden and Stone did.

Bound by loyalty, she had also went with them when the battle started, fighting alongside of the Chosen she had once been known to slay under the cover of night. No soldier who had the idea to confront her left with their lives or limbs intact, she cut them all down just the same when she served under Apollyon before she left.

It was just that, loyalty.

Unlike Davis - who currently stood about a hundred feet away, with Apollyon's greatsword still held in his hand - who went out of both anger and remorse, as Mercy could tell just by his words he had uttered before the battle began and shortly before he had left the Legion, she did it out of only loyalty to her new leader that she had chosen.

Never anger.

The Peacekeeper paused to look down upon the body of her former master. Apollyon had fought and died a valiant warrior, just as she had expected of her: slash marks and wounds adorned her form, bits and pieces of her armor missing and scattered around the area, while the once formidable warlord of the Blackstone Legion laid within a pool of her own blood. Given the size of the wound on her back though, it was more than likely that was what had taken her life.

"And so the predator had fallen…"

It was to no one in particular, just another observation.

As far as all was concerned now, she had only one master to follow, one that Mercy knew deep inside would serve better than the black armored warmonger.

For peace came with a price, and sometimes, the price was blood. But now the price had been paid, there is little one needed to consider more of.

Sorry about that lack of updates last week, senior finals were kicking my ass into oblivion, but anyway, here have some Mercy introspection.

Until next time, read and review please :) tell me how I can improve or any feedbacks, I welcome them!

-Thanatos