Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27550231-20170522170711/@comment-27550231-20170624045052

"I'd call you ride but I'm not one to talk."

Praetor hunches over in his seat and stays quite as replays the past few days events in his mind. Every battle, every strike movement and thought.

He's weak. He doesn't deserve to be in control. He doesn't deserve all he has. We earned this! We deserve to bring an end to that horned whore and bring balance to this world!

But what if the people? What of the lives that will be lost when they return to their monstrous forms?

They are monsters! No different than now! You're a traitor to your species! You are a disgusting heretic and should die for defying the goddess!

Goddess? Gods don't die... You've forgotten of home haven't you?

Praetor opens his eyes and glares at Armata then at the guards out the window. He hates this place. The people and his host...

"If only I could stay dead and be done with this..."