"You'll never understand." The baleful and dejected response was blunt. Tobias sought no answer, no further indulgence from the man who would not be reasoned with. In truth, Tobias could not have held such tenacity against him. Both men were steadfast in their beliefs. The truest tragedy in all lifetimes was the same: opposing beliefs begat conflict. Conflict was the sad truth of the world they shared.

Around them, the temple's tears twisted, and Tobias flicked his eyes upward. The sword seemed to swing in slow motion. In a man's life, he came close to death only a handful of times. Some men saw that end and shied away, but Tobias and death were old friends. In Salvar, he had lost his band of ragtag brothers to the Sway's cruelty. His mother had died in his youth, and he had already lost brothers in arms from Alerar. Lament's own hollow eyes overlapped his own as the blade bared down, and the teardrops burned at his eyes.

Blades kissed in a sudden and passionate embrace. With a zeal beyond his own, Tobias' body heaved in a sorrowful effort. The Dwarven steel reflected a scene of chaos as it touched his opponent's weapon. Grating metals howled their disdainful cries, and Tobias held the blow at bay.

"Despair is a currency in this world," he would not refute his inability to defend the mangled men. Their bodies were twisted, blasphemous mirrors of what they once were. Despite that harsh reality, the Soldier clung to his grim duty. "Their deaths were inevitable."

The two men stood at odds, deadlocked blades holding them back from one another. Hateful eyes met Tobias' tearful gaze, and in that instant neither man looked truly alive. His next words sent an otherworldly chill through the room. "So are ours."

The world ceased in its sacrilegious wails at his words, and Tobias slowly closed his eyes. Powers present in the room shivered and wailed their horror as the youth trembled, and blood spewed from his open mouth. Caked in filth, Tobias forced his lips into a mocking smile. He was spent, used and abused in ways unimaginable. Power rippled through him and bled into the desecrated temple, and the forces at work railed against him.

Eyes more hollow than the abyss itself stared into Constantine's being from the lifeless body that defied him but a second longer. Spasms ripped through the uniformed youth, and he crumpled. Tobias was dead before he hit the floor.

Hands ripped outward from the floor angrily, and they sought to destroy the body of their master's unexpected oppressor. Tobias' hollow corpse shimmered with a pale glow, energies he had never fathomed in life rending his ruin from within. A piercing wail came from above, impregnable darkness shifting and slowly fading.

Constantine was free to flee, but Tobias had trapped himself for eternity. Face down in muck with a sad smile, Tobias had always told those closest to him that his was a wasted life. The last breath had left him, but the tears still flowed from darkened eyes. Tobias had found his fate, and he met it on his own terms.

Walls rocked in a frenzy, and columns crumbled beneath an unseen weight. In the throes of her lust, the demoness remained oblivious to her impending end. The circular energies that held her drained away. Eldritch light flowed outward and dispersed like a dying sun.

Bits of ceiling crashed into the floor, and the doorways began to collapse on themselves. Windows shattered and glass peppered the bloodied floor. Finality had fallen on those who dared to dream. Reality was a cruel mistress.