The Power of Pure Water [Cyrus/Hayden] [Minatumi Defense]

No matter who owned the land, no matter where the land was located, it was apart of Earth. Where mankind laid and progress was made, every inch of it deserved to be protected from those who sought to do harm to it. It was that simple. There was a right and wrong to the world, even when the lines blurred. For Desmond Hayden who was once a soldier following a cause, who became a man driven by a dream, to finally becoming a symbol. Wherever the suffering and pain of the denizens of world remained, he would arrive to ease that burden.

He may be the King of Vastime, but he was also a protector of Earth. A chairman of Lux Orior, and a man willing to die for others if it spared them. When he felt the shift, the cry of pain from countless people as the world was beset by darkness- he gazed upon his those around him. A resolve coming onto his features as his entire body set it's self ablaze in rage, and the need to act. A simple phrase was uttered, as he activated his Lux Orior portal system to begin to warp him away: "They need me."

As he traveled between worlds, he didn't have time to pick a destination. He just needed to be there, so when he was spit out the void into the world he fell into the center of the chaos. His business outfit burned away as he manifested his armor, not quite releasing his shikai but removing his weapon from it's sheathe. He'd need it's power in a second. He felt so many energies, but most importantly, he felt the cries of people who needed to be saved. In this moment, he cared nothing for titles, gods, enemies, or anything imbetween.

His body was shielding someone from the rain, he didn't know who it was- and he could feel the burning deathily energy on his skin. His sword buried into the ground he'd gaze around before a thrumming of energy was felt in his heart. It began to radiate outwards, as he finally set to task his will. His desire to save these people, a desire born out of a love. These where his people, and he refused to fail them once more.

"Aaaaaaaahhhh!"


His voice bellow'd outwards, Death Energy was a sickly disgusting abomination. But it contained a piece of Death, and if it contained a piece of that... just maybe.. maybe..

He felt the world begin to grow dark, his body was burning alive from the acid in an attempt to protect someone. But even through that pain he felt it, the brief connection to Death. He was perhaps slapping his patron in the face, a being who cared only for the balance of death being used to save lives. But he didn't care, perhaps in some ways, he resolved that his need to help these people outweighed the consequences of his health. As he the world trembled, and his energy exerted it's self he felt it.

A connection.

In that moment, the rain froze in place. Shaking, resisting. Help in place by the sheer will of Desmond and his ability to control a piece of death. It was bad, it was painful, and it wasn't easy. But it gave people time to run, and as he felt his body break down and fix itself like Prometheus of old- he could only offer a smile through pain'd teeth. This had to work for now, if only for a little. Sweat poured from his forehead, as he lifted bloodshot eyes to see something in the distance. A woman, clad in white perhaps doing the same as him.

Saving lives. Perhaps the weight on their shoulders could not be bore alone, but together- perhaps they would be able to save these people.

He coughed, blackened blood spilling from his mouth. Most likely his patron scolding him. Or maybe it was the backlash from such a rough connection to an energy he barely possessed a connection to begin with. Whatever the cost, he'd hold it. The civilian under him stared in shock for a moment, before scrambling away. Hayden saw what he once thought to be resignation in the civilian's eyes, perhaps changed to something else. Hope.

Some part of Desmond howl'd in pain at the exertion of power, some part of him seemed to want nothing more than to release this rain. To allow it to melt the populace, but the moment such thoughts invaded his mind he crushed them. For he knew it was but the influence of a entity which sought nothing more than it's own ends, and in this moment his full exertion of willpower would be felt. Like a warm pulse echoing through the area, Desmond Hayden would bear the weight of Atlas if it saved but one life. Bloodshot eyes tilted his head upwards as he gazed at a beautiful face, one her's features carried with her the same dedication he had.

Was this.. Cyrus?

He could feel the cold brush of Death on his heels, but he'd grit his teeth steeling himself. He would not become another vassal of Death simply because they wished it, no he would stand in defiance. As he began to straighten his back, feeling his body groan as he went upright to gaze at Cyrus. There was no pride in his features, but simply a symbol standing for the trambled people of Earth. In this moment, he would do whatever was needed to prevent another child without parents. He would prevent the tears of a daughter without their father. He gazed upon Cyrus, bloodshot eyes 'crying' tears of red blood. Not black.

Such was the duty of a protector.

"Then we shall turn back this tide together." The man proclaimed through clenched teeth, his hands holding onto the hilt of his sword. The tipp buried straight down into the earth, as a look of exertion came onto his fingers- the rain beginning to lift upwards every so much. Enough to where people may be able to crawl towards safety.

"We may be able to combine our efforts, to cease this rain. If you are able to endure the pain of Death and Hollows, you may use me as a focus for your power. Rewrite the laws of this area." He did not know truly their power, but he believed a quincy may yet be able to change this. This rain was but energy, rishi, truly at it's core. With his spiritual connection to it, she may yet be able to cease it's existance.

If she could endure the pain of touching.

He awaited her answer.

The price of suffering was but a small one in comparison for price of life. He would take that bargain a million times over if it would allow them to save the life of the innocent few.

He stood as a monument to defiance, to the gods, to beings which sought to destroy the lives of those here. Perhaps he himself held the blood of countless on his hands, but in this moment he was no King. He was must a man seeking to save the world in whatever way he could, and if he must bare the weight of an angry deity at his shoulder he would do so. His hands tightened on the hilt as he witness Cyrus enter into something else, a primordial force which harkened him back to when Death overtook his own body.

As he performed the actions needed to save these people, Desmond steeled himself as best he could. But bloodshot emerald eyes winced in pain, an imaginable fire racking his core and his blood boiling now. As a ward against death was placed, the intensity of what was before seemed to multiply by a thousand as the full weight of Death sought to make him his vassal once more. Unlike the past transgression to do so once more was to invite disrespect. In a moment it felt like he would fall to the influence, as blackened blood mixed with crimson spilling from his mouth.

The word was spoke almost like a growl, bucking the natural order. The full weight of Desmond's soul pushing back. The full capacity of his desire to protect these people, to be a beacon in this darkness. His veins exploded in pain, thrumming with his full power as something else carried him right now. For Desmond may be a strong individual, but his power truly came from those behind him- those who supported him and looked to him to protect them. As the faces of countless Vastimians, allies, and loved ones flowed through his mind he would find the depths of his soul fighting back.

As he stared at Cyrus, emerald eyes now turned red from the sheer amount of blood which flowed into them. His callous hands in a vice grip around his sword, remaining upright despite the unimaginable pain which flowed through him. To fall to a knee, to give into the pain, would cause these people to feel fear. When it was just but Him and Cyrus holding back the hounds of terror, he could not fall. As his vocal cords felt like they where being torn apart and rebuilt he'd open his mouth, his body shaking from the inner torment.

"Do not fear, for we are here. And we will not fail you!"

If Cyrus was the power behind what they had done, if he was the protector of these people in this moment. Then Desmond, as he stood hand's clasped around the hilt of his sword, would become the vigil which awaited the next danger. Though his body may be breaking, and his soul may be shaking, he would inspire hope into these people. He- no-