Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-25808351-20181211225019/@comment-27550231-20181213193440

Armata's words trailed off into a muffled noise. His peripherals blackened and all he saw was his helm... the rest of him. Every step resonated, echoing in the cavern his mind had created. Every step he took echoed louder and louder finally drowning out all exterior stimuli as he picked up the shaped metal hunk and ran his hand over the the new and old textures.

The helmet was no longer completely black but it did not matter as the new silver additions poked out and further emphasized the damage it had taken.

Jorge looked down at the helmet, his smile reminiscent of thag of a father holding their newborn child, he gingerly rotated the helmet around and before long he slipped it over his head and took in a deep breath.

He was complete once more.

"I don't expect this to protect me much against Paramool but I never did. This armor will burn an image into the minds of those who witness its deeds, who witness its capabilities and should we survive tales of the one in black armor will echo on for years to come."