The Devil May Cry: The Lost Sun

The warmth of the air around him grew on him like that of a soft blanket from the years he had spent as a child toting it around. A chilling breeze blew from time to time dancing along his strands of silk black hair as he paced towards his destination,  this chill one after another invoked him to slide his hands into his pockets. Gazing around at the green glared metal and the harsh broken roads had him pause and think. The emotion of the slender and dead people around him alongside the dragging and purging of themselves to do the labor that drove their souls made him regret his decision to agree to this meeting. His face turned towards the broken and soaking ground, he could still see the glow of the green sky from the reflection of the grey pavement. As the sky reflected his envy of the ones whom had not seen the world’s true face, the ones who could wake up every day and go about like there isn’t a war going on around them he came to his destination and patiently waited as a light drizzle danced along the crimson leather trench coat he had on. Leaning against a dry spot beneath the metal stair cases and mounted stone hang over he hooked his hood over his as his head. His ears attuned to not the droplets falling to the earth but the footsteps from around the corner were accompanied with the view from his eyes as they watched the dark silhouette glide as though it were floating from around the corner.

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