[696] Kizmal(8).

The environment had changed, Alan's unconscious body lay on flat, obsidian black ground, one where life could not grow. The skies were black, and dark clouds inhabited them. 

These clouds were constructs of pure darkness, not of air and water. They behaved like living beings as well, taking on an infinite number of forms whenever they so pleased. 

Even the sun, or whatever star could be seen in the sky was black, as black as tar itself, but an outline of white light existed around it. It wasn't much, but it made things visible, at the very least.

Alan's spear, the Ame-No-Sakahoko was a sorry sight to see, the legendary spear looked worse for wear, clearly, the battles against Kizmal and his scalding blood had not been kind to it. However, it was still sharp.

It could still cut, pierce and stab. The spear was still formidable, despite it's recent decline.

It shone with a slight, golden hue, slowly inching closer to its unconscious master.