"It all sounds so noble, when you say it like that, Jet."
It took every ounce of effort he had, but, Jeremi was remaining calm.
He had no desire to harm Enigma. He wanted to avoid this becoming a bloodbath, if he could. ...Of course, he got the distinct impression that Enigma meant to murder every soul here, regardless of what he said, but, that was beside the point. Not waiting for Tristesse to act, he threw up another Wall of Nothingness, this time, around the young boy Enigma meant to make a corpse.
"Enough, revenant! Cease your pointless deluge of violence."
With that dealt with, he turned back to Jet.
"There was a lot of good that was done, by Oblivion. I won't deny that. ...But, the cost was far, far too great. There is no end just enough to excuse our means. How many innocent souls, Biscuits? Did you ever stop, and take a tally? How may soldiers did we order to fight for us, die for us, all for the cause of power struggles and pointless vendettas? How many little people, caught in the crossfire of gods? How many lives cut short do we still carry, Biscuits of Heart, even now? Do they haunt you, as they still haunt me?"
Each and every sin he committed while on the throne ate at him. Even now. Brandishing his Keyblade, he let his facade fall, finally. He was angry. No, FURIOUS. ...But, curiously, not with them. Not directly.
"The fault is not entirely upon us, though. But, the source of it all... The source of our Darkness, Biscuits. THAT is what Enigma wishes to raise again. Mark my words, Maximilian Aeros. You seek an absolute power. A perfect means to impose your will on all things living. ...I do not care how wise you are, how just you are. Power creates monsters. Absolute Power gives rise to demons. If you succeed in your task? You will become everything Roxas' propaganda machine said of Zexion. Of Riku. Of ALL the Oblivion Lords. ...I remember you, old friend. You were kind, once. Fair, once. ...I don't want to see you become the Imperial Monster."
Gripping his Keyblade tightly, Jeremi's tone darkened.
"...I give you one chance. ...Go now, in peace. Forget this dream. Let the Empire, finally, die. Your murders, here, will be forgotten. You will be free, with my blessing, to pursue the life you feel you deserve. I care for you, old friend, but, I will, for the sake of all creation, strike down the Imperial Monster, should it ever again rear its ugly head."
...He blinked away tears. There was so little of his old times, his old friends. He didn't want to lose anymore.
"...I'm begging you, Max, with tears in my eyes. Don't make me destroy you."
After saying how stealth is a viable component of assassinations...
[04:49:40] Serenae Spate : Fuck stealth. Shoot bitches.
Drakar wrote:We are blades of grass basking in light, our melody of justice shining hard on the darkness. Any shadow we cast we will overwhelm. Any darkness we fuel we will blind. We shall set our path with blood and honor, but not in evil, in justice. Our keys unlock the way of justice.
Zihark wrote:Shriou's Korean? I thought he was Asian.