…Jethro charges forward, his blades held out to his sides. With a cry, he leaps into the air, and forward towards the oncoming horde.

His blades move through the air in a preordained path, slicing though flesh and bone as if there was no difference between the two. He lands on the damp soil, steading himself with a splayed hand, as bodies around him tumble hopelessly to the earth.

He casts a snarling gaze upwards and meets Sabastian’s eyes with his own.

“The windy city has been kind to you old friend, maybe I was foolish to let you leave.”

“I have never been yours to rule over, old friend,” he spits, as he readies himself once more for attack.

“I beg to differ,” he says as he pulls Kiyota into view, her wrist firmly in his grasp. Her desperate gaze pulls at the threads of Jethro’s heart, and he grimaces once more.

“LET HER GO, OR I WILL BRING YOUR EMPIRE DOWN UPON YOU!”

“Then she will die,” Sabastian says callously as he pulls her close before gently digging the blade of a knife into her throat, breaking the skin ever so slightly.

“NO!” he bellows as he stretches out a hand desperately.

“NO?” Sabastian mimics, as he looks upon Jethro with eyes tight and confused. “What more can you threaten to take from me if I do? What else do I have, if I do not have my empire?”

“Y-Your life, one I’ll gladly take.”

“Without this, I care not for much else, so death would be a reward well earnt,” he says nonchalantly, as he drags the blade across her throat, sending a volcano of red out towards the bewildered Jethro….