_Eshwar_

A tragedy...
An abrupt departure...
Death...
And rebirth.

Pain, rage, struggle, and blood honed a sword.
A sword sharp enough to sever through reality and reveal what lies beyond.

It unveiled something,
Or rather, someone, incomprehensible and unprecedented....
A being who seems to weave the threads of fate.

Does he truly exist, or is he merely a manifestation of another's will?
If he does exist, what purpose does he serve?
Is there really a purpose, or is it just another will imposed upon him?
If it is another's will, can he defy it?
Can he turn his sword against his creator,
A being who literally writes his reality?

Or will he be consumed by the abyss from which his power flows,
Forever lost in the shifting void of his own making?

The Blind Swordsman.

Pushing down on her pelvic bones, he made her sit on his member that was soaring within its confinements, while she kissed him, amateurishly.

He then slipped his left hand into her ripped gown again and invaded her panty, again. Gently rubbing on her slippery slit, he made her let out a soft moan into his mouth while his other hand searched for ways to invade at her breasts that remained confined.

Slipping his other hand into the square back of the gown, he soon found the corset's laces, 'fuck this fantasy word' He cursed inwardly and soon pulled one of the tied laces, loosening it; he instantly noticed Ela sigh into his mouth, making him rip apart the whole upper part of the gown, with the corset ripped off carefully, so that it wouldn't hurt her in the process.

"Ahnh!!? Whan!?" Ela exclaimed, moaning, as she pushed herself off of him, surprised at how effortlessly he ripped her corset apart.

How amateurish of you, Ken [R-18]