PURPOSE
It is impossible to describe the way it saw the world to a human.
It was not a living creature of flesh. It was not a soulless nightmare of malice. It was not even an animated golem of magic or science.
It was a sword. It saw the world as a sword does.
It existed to cut. To move. To be wielded towards a purpose. To kill. To defend.
It existed solely to support the hand that gripped it. The arm that swung it. The mind that guided it.
It was special in that way. It had a bond. A connection deeper than even a shared soul.
It was made for a single person. It was meant to be wielded by a certain hand. Swung by a particular arm. Guided by a specific mind.
It's bond with it's fated wielder was greater than anything else in the world to it.
Distance meant nothing. Time was meaningless.
It reached beyond these things, to the core of it's wielder. A bond beyond the soul.
As such, there was no doubt that once it's wielder gripped it's pommel, time itself broke before their bond.
It was now where it was always meant to be. Where it always was going to be. Where it always will be.
With the sole fault fixed, with it's wielder's hand gripping it, it could now focus fully on it's purpose.
It will cut down everything it's wielder cut. Humans. Faunus. Grimm.
Metal. Stone. Magic.
Space. Time. Fate.
It was impossible to describe the way it saw it's world to a human or faunus.
But it didn't need to describe anything to it's wielder.
It's name was Shroud & Veil. It's wielder was Blake Belladonna.
Whatever path it's wielder traveled in this world, it would carve the road.
That was it's purpose.