Promises

'I will kill that son of a bitch,' Alex thought, his surrounding a sight of devastation.

The floor was littered with the wreckage of robotic bodies, but the act of letting his fist loose, instead of aiding him to calm his emotions, only fueled his anger, pushing his rage to a new boiling point.

Alex's right arm was shattered in multiple places, the flesh on both knuckles gone, and his body adorned with numerous injuries, yet not an ounce of pain was visible in his eyes besides only the turbulent emotions and seething rage were evident.

Alex had often thought that the impending doom coming for the Human Continent was because of him, but confirming this knowledge made him sick to the core.

Alex couldn't find comfort in the truth that the cycle of destruction was going to begin sooner than later, and it would engulf the world no matter what he did, and there was nothing he or anyone could do to change that fate.