oof ow ouchy

Blade felt something ancient and wild stirring within him at the gruesome sight. Complete destruction surrounded the stray vessel; the plants were dead, and all the animals had run far, far away. Rocks and trees were overturned, and tunnels dotted the surface of the earth.

No blood had been shed yet, or he would already be lost. Even without that to push him over the edge, he struggled to keep his hands off his weapon. "I am not going to hurt him," he snarled, taking a delicate step within the perfect circle.

He felt that familiar pressure in his head build as more and more of the Bloodthirsty Chorus returned to him. Their task had been to chip away at the foundations of [REDACTED]'s influence, something they devoted themselves to with relish. There was a reason they called Blade an anarchist pig, after all.

He shook his head, growling again once he realized he'd drawn his weapon without realizing. He sheathed it forcefully, clasping his hands in front of him. He needed to calm down, or he'd fuck this up worse than [REDACTED] ever could.

Years of study and training flashed through his head as he took slow, methodical steps towards the unmoving vessels. The Bloodthirsty Chorus was a double-edged sword. They were incredibly resourceful and powerful enough to make fights completely trivial if they so chose, but they were chaotic anarchists, bowing to no authority on Earth or beyond. Their vessels had a history of dying tragically when they lost their favor. Blade, like the rest of this generation of vessels, was a special case, having been sought out and chosen by the entity, but he still wasn't completely safe.

He had still trained for this, of course. But he hadn't really wanted or expected to become their vessel- it seemed like way too much work.

He stopped in front of Ant, thinking that he'd been right about that. This- all of this- would've been far, far too hard for him back then. But he couldn't find it in him to complain about it.
_ _
"Go away," Ant muttered, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"Nah." Blade dropped into a crouch. "C'mere. We have a couple of vessels to track down."

"...Why?" Ant sounded stricken, but his voice was as steady as ever.

Blade nudged him, sighing as the Hive circled them from a distance. "I don't trust those idiots to keep themselves alive, no matter what Ooze does."

"That's-" Ant coughed, turning away. "Not what I was asking. Why'd you come back for me?"

"I didn't want you to be alone. I know how it feels," Blade said simply.

"What? How could you know *anything* about that?" Ant hissed the words out through gritted teeth. Blade could practically see his frustrated thoughts written on his face.

He sat down cross-legged. "I've had Chorus at my side for decades, and we usually travel alone. They- *We* did some things that I'm less than proud of because of that." It felt odd to say that out loud, like Blade was taking off his bandages and finally revealing his scars. It would have scared him if he didn't trust the other with his life.

Ant was staring at him in shock. He wondered if he'd revealed a bit too much as a silent moment stretched out between them. Then, the shorter vessel spoke up. "You're the Blood God. I thought you said he was dead."

Blade met his eyes, trying to gauge Ant's reaction. There was something painfully familiar about the terror and disbelief in that expression. He heard a thousand voices whispering, *Blood for the Blood God.* And yet... "He is."

And with those words, spoken with the finality of a judge meting out the death sentence, the two stood. It was time to find their errant friends.