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

Thrown away like used tissue.

Martin went through the ruins time and time again, hoping to find something.

Anything.

However, he was just grasping for straws.

If he had found something, that would mean Vincent's explosion had failed its purpose.

He couldn't even find a hair of a corpse of Lucas or Vincent.

Martin felt a strong bloodlust rise within him cracking through his numbness and taking over all his emotions.

It was the most intense desire to kill.

However it soon faded back to calm.

Who would he kill?

The hero?

Vengeance wasn't the answer this time. Lucas and Vincent weren't pushovers who would want to be avenged.

Moreover, He knew.

Lucas wouldn't want him to do that. Lucas might seem a rash megalomaniac, but he was the most cunning, sordid individual to have ever existed. All of his enemies were manipulated by him akin to puppets with strings.

If he wanted the hero dead, the hero wouldn't have reached so far.

The hero had to live. His death would cause the recently healed world to spiral into panic.

Then, the corrupted nation leaders?

Already killed long ago with his very own sniper rifle.

Thus, he had no choice but suppress the bloodlust.

He was a man with a code. He only killed those he deemed worthy.

Unable to do anything, and full of frustration towards the world, Martin couldn't help but fall to his knees and scream at the world uncharacteristically.

He kneeled throughout the night in mournful silence.

The pale moonlight illuminated his lonely figure.

As the sun slowly rose upon the land, he rose up and started to slowly walk away.

However he had just taken a few steps, when the suns rays, bent around him in weird angles. Like 4-dimensional magic circles that glowed blindingly.

Then, they vanished without a trace, taking Martin with them.