The two left no longer had names. Their own had been whisked away, replaced with numbers eight digits long. But with those long forgotten names, fell away their past, their heritage, their ownership. All that they had now was a purpose, a weapon, and each other.
The world crumbled around them, and yet they fought on, defying the great numbers and superior firepower. Every day for the last three years had lead them to this moment. Learning. Training. Fighting. Surviving. They ran through the trenches of another long forgotten war, holding their bloodstained hands over their mouth in a feeble attempt to block out the stench of the dead and dying. There, above them, in the Fortress of The Sentinels, stood the Last, alone and waiting. Waiting forThem.
The two survivors were not to disappoint.They spared one glance, one single look at all that they had achieved, all that they had done and all that they had survived, before screaming their battle-cries and rushing towards the gates.
No-one has updated this blog, in like, forever, so i decided to do the honors.
I've been putting this off for ages, mostly because i've already been shown up by two amazing writers, Mary Hiashi and Octaboona Ambrosius, and i know that whatever i write will just never be as good.
Apologies to Thrice Dozer, i know you were going to update the story, but i said that i would do the next part, even before The Sentinels came out. Also, you did say that you were kinda busy.
If anyone wants to continue tell the tale of the terrific assault by two surviving soldiers against the Last in his own damn fortress, be my guest. Seriously. Just go ahead and write it, it needs to be done soon, or else procrastination is just going to overtake us all.