2 Fall of The Anarchists Part-2 (1/2)

Martin had never felt so pissed in his entire life, excluding perhaps the time his entire family was killed off by the Anganese Empire. He had actually been duped. Since when did the hero start using deception tactics.

He jumped onto the jet ski and went towards the base at full speed.

He had a very uneasy feeling in his heart. A feeling of pure dread.

He had always possessed a strong sixth sense, that was currently tingling like a bag of popcorn in a microwave.

He had just entered within sight of the base when it happened.

The entire base blew up. The tongues of fire blossomed like the most horrifying lotuses. The sheer beauty in the destruction made it more uncanny.

Martin knew that all was over.

That level of destruction and beauty could only be achieved by Vincent.

The very fact that he used it meant they had lost.

The Anarchists had lost.

Martin wanted to feel angry, but he couldn't find a single emotion within him.

He was entirely numb.

Numb not calm.

Martin would get calmer the more rage he felt.

But today he just felt numb.

He had once been driven by pure vengeance. In order to take revenge on the corrupted nobles of the empire, he had abandoned everything.

His humanity, morals, dignity-everything.

It was the anarchists that rekindled hope in him.

A reason to live.

Something much stronger than vengeance.

The sum of parts that made a greater whole.

Anarchy.

He had eventually achieved his vengeance. The anarchists had risen to the top of the world bathed in all its glory.

There is, however, one eternal truth about anarchy.

It only loses when its no longer needed.

The world had already healed.

So, they were now rejected by it.