Purpose

The mighty may fall, but perseverance is truly an unweathering path. A force to be reckoned with, yet senile in thinking, utterly blasphemous to the truth in strength.

Wars and peace, are two opposing forces that come against each other time and time again. Neither falls prey to the schemes of the other, and coexistence lies within impossibilities.

The truth only stands on one note, you can either choose peace or wage a clueless war. Maybe one is truly an answer to the absurdities of reality, but is it worth it?

Funny enough, these questions only flood the mind when death rears its menacing teeth. Yet in peace, they take their lives as child's play. Speeches of power, but vague in meaning, form the commencement of a senseless event.

Perhaps peace might be the right choice. One might think, "Oh, it's quite stable and unwavering" and others choose to live with it due to their cowardly nature.

In all, none might be right. For peace within an era of suffering is senseless. Under the reigns of a suppressing leader, peace just brings pain and suffering.

Frankly, both terms are void. Neither makes sense depending on where you put it, but it is used when there is a purpose.

A purpose for freedom leads to war against an oppressor, and a purpose for stability leads to peace. Nothing makes actual sense in the absurdities of reality, with our lives as meager sparks lit on the earth.

Here lies the question. What is the use of living? Is there a purpose for every action we take? Questions that constantly envelope the mind in a dark mist of irregularities.

Without purpose, our lives are vague. They become a breath within the immense pleasure from desires, leaving our wills as hollow as an empty casket. One needs purpose to live, without it nothing makes sense.

When there is purpose, every act, activity, event, and misfortune brings about meaning. That is why purpose is needed to live. It's as important as the constant act of breathing we practice each day, and without it, we end up dead.

As indulging as the concept of purpose was and its messy line of understanding, Camael found peace within this purpose. His past was vague and broken, as his memories lay waste to reality.

Lost within the shrewd thoughts of the creator, he wandered without purpose like a lost sheep. His life had no meaning, but unknown to his pea brain within the concepts of reality, the creator foresaw the end.

Camael searched for purpose after losing his grip on memories and found purpose once more in a human. However, those same memories were poison to him. They only worsened his predicament, leaving him in the hands of the same creatures he found purpose in.

And so it was and came to be. Humans granted the thoughtless angel purpose, and it was to fight an evil they believed in. Thoughtless, he was. Without memories nevertheless, the memories of the flesh were not easy to wipe.

Knowing this, the humans cheered in joy and commenced the project. Reforming the angel who once led the armies of heaven into a living weapon, yet it was not their fault.

They simply believed in purpose, and that led them to the stray angel. Another purpose quickly rose from within, and with that, they used the hand of god for their pleasures.

After all, what is the truth in good or bad, it becomes void when placed on the tables of clarity and realization. It is said that everyone knows what is good or bad, from birth, we are taught this.

Yet that which is good and bad is different from another's. Resulting in a clash of views, hence laws were made to enforce structure. What is good might be bad, and what is bad, good.

The Director believed his cause was to purge evil, and that evil was Loki. Loki believed his cause was for the good of man. Two diverse mindsets and philosophies, yet true in their way.

Through that, a war ensued mid-way as Camael sped to the stead of Loki. His burning virtue towards eradicating evil had a huge pillar standing in opposition.

Yahama, the second of the death twins. Silent she was, yet skillful and senile to the very end. She was feared by many, and others who took her as a human only met their horrid demise.

A force not to be reckoned with, she was. Standing high and mighty within sight, and firmly holding a Terance gun to shoot. Her brain led her to produce tech beyond human capacities, but her hobby was shrewd and terrific.

A serial killer feared by many, an experiment head of human exploration. Her name was all over the news on the dark web, darkness was too low to be compared with her actions.

Kidnapping, murder, theft, she did them all. A tattoo laid on her back with a strong notice signaling death, and it was shrewd in every way. Experiments that crossed the boundaries of rationality, and constant poisoning daily.

There was no way to call an embodiment of chaos a fellow human, it was pure evil. Scrapped evil from the depths of hell, even demons had no position for comparisons. That was how drenched in dark and blood she was.

It would be a waste to cross her path, as lives always ended upon meeting eyes with her. Blessed in talent, but menacing and alien. A predator no less, and an abomination to the human species.

Impossibilities of creation which were willed to be, Birth from purity versus an uncanny evil, the screws of time began to move once more. A fallen angel against the most dangerous killer in human history.

With a click, blasts of nuclear power set off. Camael had been steady in his flight but immediately turned sideways upon feeling the beeping sensation of the armor.

It had superb analysis capabilities and a daring sense of awareness. Camael had dodged well and searched for the location of the disturbance. The armor set out its firm engines and blasted toward the settling nuclear source.

Standing in a black-skinned attire was the enmity of all angels. Evil made into flesh, burning with the desire of death. Camael's senses gained realization of the threat, and with a swift glide of his arm came a fully energized sword.

His hate for the abnormality grew higher, and a wish for vengeance and death stood firm within his resolve. Good could never co-exist with evil, and each fought to overcome the other.

Yahama walked slowly toward the steel armor before her and smirked. Her talent was beyond simple creations as such, and pride bore its will once again in her.

"You wouldn't last ten seconds with that on."