Earl Edward entered his luxurious home in the foothills of the village and dropped his coat on the nearby hanger. Today had been an exhausting day catering to the Queen's attempts to hurry rebuilding efforts of the capitol. Due to the invasion not reaching the foothills, life rarely changed for the noble except for the Queen's demands becoming more frequent for the 'care of her people'.

Her parents would be able to understand that projecting a position of strength to the world comes first before anything else.

While it was true the Queen had made a display of power to Weselton, she still paid the kingdom that tried to invade hers. That action, including her extraditing Prince Hans and forgiving Weselton before, created a precedent where the world would assume she'd always turn the other cheek. Such a mindset left their kingdom weak and likely to be invaded once again and there was no guarantee the next time they wouldn't infringe on his assets.

Walking through the main foyer before ascending the stairs and entering his study, he picked up a glass on a tray next to the door. Going over to his large oak desk, he sat in his luxurious chair with rich red velvet sewn into the cushions and fished out a wine bottle out of one of the drawers.

Pouring himself a glass, he stretched his legs out and sighed loudly. It wasn't that he hated Queen Elsa, no she was a whelp but her offering the council half the judiciary power as an olive branch enriched his life in many ways. The rest of the council members had differing opinions but he alone was able to get them to have a single vision if the time really called for it.

The late King Agnarr appointed him to the council due to his ability at gathering information, a useful trait under one's own control. Edward was no fool when he knew that Agnarr kept him close to give off a sense of trust but deep down wanted to keep an eye on the Earl. That didn't bother the council member in the slightest, the late King always had trouble keeping secrets and with the birth of his children, he started wearing his heart on his sleeve.

He was a far cry from the key before him; King Runeard was a shrewd and powerful King that knew how to make the most of what he had. Back in those days, Arendelle was a willing participant in conflicts if there was a benefit to the kingdom. The man was ruthless to his enemies and knew when to seize opportunities, opportunities provided him thanks to Edward's connections and spying eyes.

With his official position of being a council member dominated the majority of his time, his spies still kept up their work and reported to him with indirect means. Now as a 48 year old man with a network of spies and informants spanning the majority of the known world, his lifestyle was secured bar any major developments.

Turning toward one of the paintings that lined the wall, he looked at the one depicting his father. A stern and piercing gaze stood out the most of the image, Edward's childhood wasn't unhappy. It was much like Agnarr's in a way; a strict father figure who demanded perfection from his son and taught him how to get ahead in life. While Agnarr ignored those lessons, Edward took them to heart and found success by stepping on those inferior to him and as for those superior to him, he put himself in a position that made them unwilling to cross him.

Except for Stonewell.

Just thinking of that man's name ruined the exquisite wine that he had enjoyed moments before. Never in his life had Edward ever had the displeasure of meeting an individual as infuriating and damning as Walter Stonewell. Of all the years the two had served together, the Earl couldn't get anything on the man. No dirt, secrets, or leverage that he could use to force the Captain's hand if he needed to.

When he first arrived with his daughter in tow, he made it perfectly clear that she wasn't a concern to him when he all but abandoned her as soon as he caught King Agnarr's eye. The little girl was bounced through several orphanages until she joined the military then being scooped up by Duke Eren. A part of him wondered if Walter had secretly planned all of that and that she was still a piece of leverage that could be used but that line of thought died when he actually met her.

The woman was just like her father; cold, calculating, and left no loose ends. She had ironically done what he had by putting herself in a position that was integral to a fellow council member. Getting to her was difficult by that alone but the fact that she had no regard for herself and was wholly devoted to Arendelle made it almost impossible to blackmail her. In her mind, Queen Elsa was an absolute boon to Arendelle and she would do anything for the reigning monarch.

Which ultimately meant that if he became a threat to Elsa in any way, she'd likely neutralize that threat herself, damning whatever consequences that followed.

Deciding to end that line of thought as he sat down his glass he ringed a bell that was on his desk. The sound reverberated across the entire house and he waited as the door to his study began to creep open. His house was mostly empty save for a few maids that maintained the property. He had personally picked them out primarily because of their beauty and circumstance.

With the right incentives phrased the right way he was able to procure a selection of beauties who waited hand and foot for him and his desires. It was just another way to exercise his talents of exploitation as he knew that none of them cared for him but their circumstances forced their hand.

The door opened and a young woman with short chestnut hair and an appealing figure hidden underneath a maid's outfit carrying a tray with a lid on it. Without even saying a word, the woman walked over to him and placed the tray in front of him. The Earl lazily lifted the top and instead of some culinary delight for dinner, on the tray were shackles, rags, candles, and various other tools and materials to be used for sinister activities.

The maid's outfit fell to the ground as the noble got out of chair and reached for the contents of the tray to exercise his power over the woman.

Edward's head was still spinning with wildly contradicting thoughts despite him shouting for them to stop. The voices were perfect imitations of his and all of them were arguing with one another about what they just heard. Some were arguing that Jorgen was just trying to scare him, others were stuck on the fact that he definitely wasn't human, more argued that even if it was all true it didn't matter.

It's not like Edward was really alive anyway.

He was a cover; a fake name and person used to run away from all the sins that were committed by his own hand.

The young man felt his legs start to give out and forced himself to sit on a nearby bench. He put his face in his hand as he tried to calm his mind down and block out all the noise. Unfortunately this allowed his mind to focus on his previous line of thought and continued allowing it to play out.

He remembered the time when he was happily tormenting Edward, poking at the depths of his mind to gain control so he could return to Father's service. It all came so naturally and while he knew the exact implications and feelings that Edward would experience, the two of them struggled against one another for months. Deep down though, the two of them both knew that this struggle was pointless and just an attempt to stall the inevitability of them coming together and all their feelings crashing down with nowhere else to go. Even now, when Jorgen and Ledgar told him that it wasn't Walter he had seen but his own warped desire for death; he knew at that moment who they meant.

Edward had taken Walter's form and was now poking and tormenting him.

Pushing at his mind, depriving him of sleep and showing him an ever constant reminder of what he wasn't and what he had wrought on the kingdom that took him in when they had no reason to. What really made it depressing was the fact that Edward hadn't even said anything yet, just being seen pushed him so far out of his mind that the monotonous building tasks were the only thing keeping him remotely sane. As insensitive and blunt Jorgen was, he probably saw the struggle and knew it for what it was.

Maybe Edward was waiting for him to die, just being there ready to kill him when he was ready. Today might've been just a taste of what it would feel like when he did the deed, a frightening thought to be sure.

The young man breathed heavily into his hand, the voices in his mind finally ceased and everything went silent except for the beating of his heart.

Ba-dump…

Ba-dump…

Ba-dump…

Ba-dump…

Ba…

…

The young man tried to listen for this next beat but it would not come, his body froze as he gazed into the darkness created by his hand. Several moments passed and he wondered if he had actually died, sitting on a random bench with his face in his hand. Maybe Edward had decided to cut him a break and let him pass peacefully as opposed to making his heart beat so fast it almost burst out of his chest.

He never imagined death would be this subtle, he remembered dying a couple times with his senses and thoughts briefly halting before he reconstituted himself but he was fully conscious now. So maybe he wasn't dead and his body just didn't want to move. Perhaps he was on the edge of death and his body had accepted that while his mind hadn't and was waiting on Edward to finish the job.

If he died sitting on this bench, he wondered how long it would take someone to realize he was gone. He could imagine someone just sitting down next to him and shaking him thinking he'd fall asleep only for his body to collapse and that person realizing he was dead. They'd probably alert the guards, who would then alert the village official who would in turn alert the council upon learning it was Edward before finally telling Elsa.

BA-DUMP!

His heart punched his ribcage hard, hard enough that his body almost leaped from his sitting position but he remained still. Just the thought of her caused his body to react in a way that demanded he get up and continue to struggle. He supposed that was good timing because his mind asked itself, "what's the point of struggling?"

For the life of him, he couldn't think of a single reason why he should be alive after all that had happened. All he had left was just a fake name, of a hero who had overcome incredible odds and helped save a kingdom. He honestly couldn't remember if it was him or Edward who had done the fighting. He could confidently say that the two of them had switched multiple times in a short period but when one of them was in control, it didn't totally feel that it was just that one.

He knew that Edward had the will to go insane lengths to fight no matter the odds, which resonated perfectly with Walter's designs to turn him into a weapon for Arendelle. Back when he was Wrath, he felt like he was just the source of power for Edward to use whenever he needed to and could remain logical in spite of Edward's rampant emotions. Such evidence pointed to Edward being the more human part of the two of them, which would've made him laugh if that same part wasn't tearing him apart.

He tried to drink and work his feelings away, to funnel them all into Edward once again despite not hearing a peep out of the young man. Jorgen's earlier crack about allowing himself to feel at the time flew over his head back when he didn't realize who or what the old man was. Now that he knew that Ledgar was likely much older and knowledgeable than Jorgen given their conversation, he replayed everything the old man had said and found many different hidden meanings.

His feelings had been funneled into Edward, the problem was Edward was beginning to overflow and his feelings had warped desires that funneled in as well. The overwhelming guilt and sadness were only a fraction of what Edward had stored.

Honestly, I can see why he wants to kill me. In that way at least, things haven't changed.

It was a small sense of normalcy that he hadn't had in a very long time. Which is what made it all the more depressing that their normal was one of them trying to destroy the other's mind. The difference though was the fact that back then, he didn't want to kill Edward, only devour him to get back control. Edward on the other hand, who had access to all of his emotions wanted to make sure he never hurt anyone again. He supposed the guilt he felt from all his actions before and during the civil war played a part but what about now?

He was sure, if Edward truly wanted to, he could kill them both at any time. Back then when Edward ripped out his own anchor, setting every off every nerve in their body was a last ditch effort that ultimately was a bluff that only worked because Edward didn't know better. However now he was under no illusions that Edward had the upper hand and he was waiting for something before he pulled the trigger.

Maybe if I ask him, he'll tell me…

He chuckled mirthlessly; he could appreciate the irony of the situation when he remembered Edward asking him for something and he screwed with the young man's mind when he could take control if he needed to.

How the tables have turned…

Ultimately deciding to just go for it, he focused on the darkness and spoke in his mind.

Edward, are you there?

Silence was his only answer. He called again and was rewarded the same way as before. His facial expression turned into a depreciating smile as he chuckled again. Perhaps he should count his blessings that Edward didn't see fit to give him another panic attack or torture him with visions of Walter's disappointed stare and nightmares.

Yet…

He couldn't even tell if that came from him or Edward.

"So that's what I looked like back then."

The young man looked up from his hand and noticed two things; first, it was night time, he had spent all day sitting on this bench, second, Garret had a bag of food he seemed to be taking out of the village. The dazed stare that the alchemist got was enough of a response for him to understand that Edward had no idea what he was talking about.

"You look like me, back when I replaced Garret here in Arendelle. I was always in my head, tormenting myself over my failures and quite honestly, looking for a quiet place to die."

Edward said nothing, his face becoming more clear yet also more distant. The corner of Garret's mouth tensed to show that he was inwardly debating something. He had picked up some produce that wasn't grown on his farm and was heading home to cook dinner when he noticed the young man sitting on the bench. Normally, he would've left well enough alone, the two of them used to blame each other for their lot in life but now, they were each other's reminders.

Garret would always wear the face of the being that created Edward and made his life hell.

Edward would always wear the face of the son Garret failed to protect.

The feelings between them were complicated to say the least, hating each other was so much easier compared to now. Garret was aware of Edward's descent the last six months and at first expected the young man to snap out of it by himself given the emotional tenacity he showed prior to that. However as the months went on, he went deeper and deeper into despair.

Haruna was actually the one to point it out to him, she had made a comment that Edward's drive to work despite the obvious look of his soul being crushed reminded her of when they first met. The comment made him think back to the hole his soul went down and the pain of him trying to climb out. Edward's face showed that he had fallen hard, and he had no way or desire to get back up.

"They're hard aren't they, feelings I mean?"

Edward continued to just stare.

"The truth is, beings like us aren't born with original feelings. We take them from the souls we consume and add them to ours. After doing so, our soul is capable of feeling those feelings we get in those particular moments. It's all second hand, until we start experiencing our own feelings in different situations. That's why we don't consume the actual soul of our victims, we make echoes that can't feel more than they are at the moment of their death. If we didn't, we'd get overwhelmed and go insane from the whirlwind of emotions we get from just one soul."

A short dark chuckle escaped Edward's lips, everything he learned today would've been good to know a year ago. The alchemist took a moment to take a closer look at Edward to help him make a decision. The young man's clothes were really wrinkled and stained from sweat and dirt. The suspenders were frayed and worn and looked ready to snap any second. His fingernails were uneven and had lines of dirt underneath them and he could tell his palm was covered in cuts. His hair had grown longer and reached the upper part of his back but it was dirty and kinky. Finally came his eyes with deep bags under them that showed he was well at the end of his rope.

Not to mention the smell; alcohol had very little effect on them given it was technically a poison and their bodies always fought to maintain itself, so it took a copious amount for them to get drunk.

Garret sighed heavily and continued to look at Edward's sorry state to reassure his decision. "You know my wife makes a wonderful stew, she combines a lot of vegetables from our fields with spices before adding different animals. I think tonight we're eating deer, one bowl makes you feel like you've been reborn."

Edward just stared for a moment at Garret making the alchemist question inviting the young man to dinner. He then shook his head as he stood up, "Thank you for the invitation but there's more work to be done and I've wasted enough time here already."

The young man intended to walk away when Garret's free hand grabbed his arm. "That wasn't an invitation, I'm telling you that we're having stew for dinner." Edward looked at the hand on his arm and Garret's reluctant expression, it was clear the alchemist was uncomfortable with this but nevertheless his grip was resolute. The young man considered physically removing himself or throwing an insult or something to dissuade the alchemist but if he was being honest, he didn't have the energy to.

He was drained.

Six months of working in this sorry state and pushing away people that cared about him was already draining enough. Today was the final straw; from the panic attack, meeting Ledgar, confirming Jorgen's identity, and having his internal struggle shoved in his face in a way he couldn't ignore took all the fight out of him.

He didn't understand why Garret of all people wanted him in his home and thinking about it was too much for his brain to handle right, especially with their history.

Garret turned and started walking home, almost dragging Edward behind him who offered no resistance.

Ahimoth had his arms crossed as he sat on a tree stump deep in thought. His father was still missing which forced him to step up and assume the throne and all its responsibilities. The council had a field day tearing him a new one when he returned from Arendelle and it was obvious they were concerned that with Alrick gone, the restless elements in the kingdom would take action.

All the soldiers who were dissatisfied with the current government were a constant concern as soon as Alrick took the throne. Fortunately, Alrick's strength as a warrior compelled their obedience but now that he had been gone for some time, there had been whispers of seizing the throne. Ahimoth couldn't say he was surprised, change was hard, he had a hard time being considered a Prince and being diplomatic. More often than not he wished he could solve all of his problems just by fighting.

Not to kill, but just to decide on a complicated matter like allowing foreigners to increase trade.

Now that Alrick was gone, the council thought it was a real possibility of there being another civil war given that Ahimoth himself wasn't considered the strongest after Alrick. That title was reserved for Pride who for some reason had decided to extend his stay in Blackdust. The man had shut himself in his father's study going over all of his research notes, an odd occurrence since he never bothered himself with academic matters. That wasn't to say he was stupid, no Ahimoth knew better than to think Pride was stupid, no child of Talib's was lacking in a thinking capacity.

Something was just off about the guy, he was still an asshole but he had become more…tolerable as of late. He had allowed Lilian into his father's study and didn't threaten or antagonize her at all, hell he even helped point out notes she had happened to be looking for. As for the Prince, the two of them hadn't argued in some time or sent each other death stares, they simply ignored one another and were very curt if they needed to talk.

In other words, Pride wasn't asserting his position of strength and with just a Prince on the throne right now, the council was worried. Ahimoth himself had noted the concern but put it to the side as a matter or urgency had recently come up.

It started a few days ago when a villager had come to the castle seeking aid.

According to him, he said that his entire village was gone; houses, fields, people, all of it was just gone. The only thing that remained of the village was just a large clearing, like the whole village had been uprooted and moved elsewhere. Ridiculous as it sounded, Ahimoth sent a force to investigate and they came up empty handed, except from stating that a village they passed on the way was gone in a similar manner.

The ride to the furthest town could be done within a day if one were to push their horse hard enough and with Blackdust training and breeding black war horses bred to outshine others, it didn't take long. The soldiers had checked both towns for any sign of life, death, or any remains of buildings but came up with nothing. The villages had both simply disappeared off the face of the kingdom. When logging the weird phenomenon, Ahimoth had noticed while looking at a map that the two villages were far out but not at the coast. Which meant if an invasion force had come to Blackdust from the shore then they'd wipe out the town or gates on the coastline, instead the villages were further in.

That night, Ahimoth sent a force to the coast to check for any signs of unauthorized ships and another one to the village ahead of the one that just disappeared. It was another day when the first group returned and reported that the village where he had sent the second force was now missing. Consulting the map one more time, the Prince cursed when his guess was true; the trail was heading toward the castle.

Not taking any more risks, Ahimoth himself led a sizable force to the village that was likely to be next. Luckily he made it in time and ordered the village to be evacuated and stationed his troops around and in the village waiting for whatever had wiped out three villages. Now he sat deep in thought going over every report he had seen about what was happening while also keeping a keen eye out.

It was already night and in the last three days, they had lost three villages. This was the fourth night and Ahimoth was more than ready to see what had erased those villages. For a while, nothing happened, his soldiers kept patrolling and reporting every thirty minutes with nothing to show for it. The village was still in sight and he had men on the wall scanning and waiting for something, anything.

It has to be something big to wipe out an entire village, there's no way it could be done so quickly if not with a large force. Yet we've been scouting for hours and still nothing.

Frowning, Ahimoth walked the perimeter himself and checked with every scout and still got nothing. This was sure to be the next target, whatever it was, it wiped out three villages in three days and it was heading toward the castle. There is no way that it slipped past a force this big without someone noticing something out of the norm.

Unless…the villages weren't the target!

No sooner as Ahimoth thought that, something erupted in the village. Quickly, his forces converged into the village and at the center of the village was Gluttony who had come out of a deep crater in the ground. As the Sin climbed out the crater, Ahimoth noticed black sand slowing his progress instead of dirt that was typically under the ground. All of his soldiers prepared for battle thinking this was the person threatening their home but Ahimoth knew better.

Gluttony wasn't the threat, he was the distraction.

Pride had just watched Lilian leave the study which left him finally alone. It wasn't like he loathed her company or hated her, he was just one of those people that didn't prefer company unless it was someone he really trusted, which basically meant he was only comfortable alone.

In other matters, he had gone through most if not all of Talib's research notes and was vaguely interested in all the projects the alchemist had started. Two of them that caught his eye were resurrecting the dead and the creation of something called 'Pillars'. The former was a straightforward concept of using the souls of the dead to inhabit a dead body and controlling it like a puppet on strings. This made the controlled body clumsy if the soul tried to move all the limbs individually versus controlling the brain.

Talib also made notes on the problem of controlling the dead bodies using their brain as there was no guarantee the nerves and brain was still functional so it sometimes did require a body to be moved by individual limbs. A solution to that problem was to regenerate the tissue and muscle nerves and then control the body but that took too much power and for a large number of soldiers it wouldn't be cost effective.

There were mentions that an individual body was successful yet for any large-scale use was cut off abruptly, likely due to Talib being assassinated. The other reports concerning the 'Pillars' were vague at best, the only thing clear about them was that they needed a large source of power. He found a list of possible candidates and was somewhat surprised to see his name on the list, along with Lilian's, Alrick's, and Asger's.

That list was the only piece of information written in the research notes. Pride still had several reports to go through but he was doubtful he'd find anything, it seemed whatever these Pillars were, they were too important to risk anyone knowing specifics about it. He got up to grab the next report when the door to the study opened again.

Expecting to see Lilian again, he didn't feel the need to say anything but when he didn't hear footsteps or her speak, he slightly turned his head to the door and forgot about the report in his hand.

Staring at him with dead eyes was his little brother.

The next thing he noticed was his brother's all black attire; overcoat, open blazer, buttoned three button vest, slacks, dress shoes, tie, and the only exception was a white collared shirt. His hair was slicked back and he was clean shaven, all in all, he looked immaculate if he was going to a funeral.

Pride remembered that his brother had been taken over by Wrath the Furious so it was very likely Rahim was gone but looking at his brother in the eyes told a different story.

"Long time no see, you're looking well."

Rahim's expression did not change as he reached into his overcoat and drew his weapon. Shahbaz tilted his head as he tossed the report on the desk he was working at earlier.

"We haven't seen each other in several years, the least you can do is answer me when I speak to you."

The younger brother disappeared from sight as a flash of steel soared toward the older brother's neck. The blade halted an inch from Shahbaz's neck, the man himself still having a neutral expression as he held his brother's gaze and his hand preventing him from moving his weapon.

"Are you trying to say that you're being forced to do this or just following orders? I suppose it's nice to see things haven't changed, you still need me to save you." Rahim's eyes flashed with a spark of emotion before he put more strength behind his blade which forced Shahbaz to duck under the swing as it became too much for him to hold back with one hand. The blade continued until it sliced into the solid stone wall creating a large gash into it.

The older brother stood up straight and the corner of his mouth quirked in amusement for a moment as he stared at the damage. His head might've been rolling on the ground if he hadn't moved out of the way, it seems his little brother has grown up a bit.

"Don't remember you being that strong, is that Wrath's ability or have you been working out?" Rahim turned to his brother with a frown, before raising his weapon to the side and allowing the blade to go from silver to black. The transition caught Shahbaz's attention but he still didn't look bothered.

"I've come for Pride."

"Ahh so he does speak! And he's come looking for me. Tell me Rahim, now that you're in a talking mood, are you here on Father's orders?"

Rahim said nothing as he got in his two handed stance before he charged forward and swung his blade intending on bisecting his brother at the waist. Shahbaz still didn't move from his position, all he did was lift his leg before stomping down on the blade as it got close enough. He watched his little brother's attack be interrupted by the sudden downward force and compelled him into a kneeling position as his blade was dug into the ground.

"Come on, aren't you tired of playing, we both know you can't beat me so why don't you tell me why you're really here. You making sure that I'm still under Father's control?"

The avenger tried pushing Shahbaz off his blade, but his brother's foot wouldn't budge. Changing tactics, he ripped out the blade in a direction that allowed the blade to slide under the shoe. This caused the older brother to fall forward a bit to regain his footing which gave the younger brother time to follow the momentum of him ripping out his weapon and swinging it again at his brother's head.

Simply squatting and allowing the blade to sail harmlessly over his head, Shahbaz's arm whipped out and Rahim was sent flying across the room into a wall. The force of his body hitting the wall caused it to collapse on him as Shahbaz stood up to his full height with his hands in his pockets.

"If it isn't obvious, I'm not under that fuck's control anymore. Took some time to break it but it was a humbling experience to be sure. Making one of his puppets turn my very body against me, defeating me with my old mentor, then sending me here to fetch some research notes; I gotta say, if I hadn't gotten rid of Pride as a kid, I probably would've gone insane trying to break out of his grip."

Shahbaz walked over to the collapsed wall and stood a few feet away from the rubble with a bored look on his face. "Look, you can't beat me. Never mind the fact that I'm the strongest Soul Weaver copy, between the two of us, I've always been the strongest. We can keep playing but eventually you'll have to realize that it's pointless. Even when we were kids I-"

"You always protected me."

Rahim rose out of the debris with his clothes covered in dust but otherwise no injuries. His face remained impassive as he patted his clothes and the dust was wiped away immediately returning to his pristine condition.

"For as long as I can remember you've looked out and protected me from everything. Whenever you left, you took my hope with you and my world became engulfed in nothing but pain until you returned. It took time but eventually I learned how to become strong myself but in the back of my mind, you were still everything I strived to be. I would always ask myself 'what would Shahbaz do' whenever I was faced with an obstacle I wasn't sure I could overcome."

The older brother listened and deep down he knew his little brother had these feelings. It couldn't be helped, the two of them were in a shitty life situation. There have been times he'd considered running but realistically he knew they'd be tracked down easily given the competence of the average Blackdust soldier when it came to tracking. Also knowing Talib, he'd track them down personally.

Shahbaz tried, he really did, to protect Rahim but there was only so much he could do against an unfeeling asshole of a father and psychopaths for teachers. When he was sent on missions, he'd kill anything that got in his way of returning home, he was motivated but by the time he came back that one day, he realized his brother was dead.

Yes, his body was alive but the small weak little brother he had was dead. Talib had beaten all of his feelings out of him and from then on there were no more smiles or laughs, Rahim devoted everything to training. The two of them had fought many times but Shahbaz was always the victor and Rahim would return to his training with renewed vigor each time. Even that last time before the civil war, Shahbaz pushed his little brother hard to see what he was capable of and was happy that Rahim was strong.

When he learned his brother had died, yes there was sadness and rage but a part of him was relieved and hoped that maybe his brother could find peace in the afterlife. It was just a cruel twist of fate that he would return as the monster that killed their mother and even crueler twist of fate that now he was aiming his blade at his older brother's chest. Shahbaz had cried his last tears before he became Pride, but he knew a part of him was hurt even though he dared not show it.

The older brother sighed heavily and took his hands out of his pockets. "So is this your way of proving you don't need me anymore, killing me and ripping Pride out of my soul?"

Rahim pointed the tip of his blade at Shahbaz and his expression remained as cold and detached as before. "No, the fact is you're right, I have never been able to beat you. For me to do what I need to, I must overcome all that stands in my way and you, brother, are in my way. Nothing more, nothing less."

Shahbaz tilted his head to the side, cracking it. "Despite what you say, I won't kill you. You're still my little brother and mom would hate to see us fighting each other. That all being said, I will crush you through. Someone's gotta knock some sense into that thick skull of yours and who's better than me?"