Comeback of the Eternal Knight (Open)

A rut formed across the sand of Egypt, like a slight ravine, silent but sure, a coffin was dragged across the small sands outlying the city of Cairo, the bustling city having survived more than its fair share of destruction. Yet, the inhabitants still continued on with their daily lives ignoring the darkness which crept beyond their doorstep again. A rattling darkness, with it an odor of rotting followed, as the averagely sized knight moved throughout the outskirts of the resilient city. A breathing could be heard as it resonated and bounced to and fro beneath the heavy set armor, tinged with purple and black metal. The muffled sound of deep breathing scaring away the rats which scurried underfoot the five foot and seven inch knight.

Hollowfied after his final escape from Albatross, Kronsire moved slowly, as was his purpose in life to travel city to city, across acres, miles even, to settle his corrupted mind. Saying nothing, thinking nothing, the hollowed remains of the once tall human moved with a fragile grace only interrupted by shrieks of laughter coming forth the hollow bone coffin, its white pristine glimmer in the morning sun. A raspy laugh it was, as the coffin did nothing to muffle the horrid high pitch squeal of laughter breaking through the bone frame. As Kronsire turned around a bend the chuckling stopped, the dimly lit alley silent, carrying only scents of garbage and trash as Sire stood still, his slow mind churning whether or not to turn around.

The city brought him undue stress, after all, visiting one's past grave tends to be an odd experience very few have witnessed. Though, despite the nervousness of the thirty nine year old man he kept what composure he had left, letting his hollowfied aura drift into Cairo faintly. Moving backward, the dark knight left the alley as he continued on the out skirting road, deserted except by a few hoodlums who then vanished in the opposite direction, scared out of their wits. The tattoo of nine affixed to the top of Sire's helm in bold lettering.

The Espada member did nothing extremely violent as of yet, content with just walking around the city instead of through it. However the longer the hollow walked, his spiritual energy trickling into the city, he could not contain his anger. The wrath which was felt deep within the dark knight was hard to contain, for himself it was a curse to have such cruel urges, but Sire needed to break something, to smash something into bits and pieces. Following this urge, the rattling noise of the knight stopped for but a second, muffled by the sound of falling brick and shattered glass falling to the ground. A small motel crumbled to the ground as the hollow kicked and smashed the outer frames of the building, toppling its support beams as it caved in on itself.

Kronsire, all the while, did nothing but breath heavily has he dodged the falling clumps of wood and metal, a few bodies visible in the debris of the destroyed hotel. The loud echo of crunching stone resonating throughout the block. Blood was visible on the ground as were a few limbs, but on top of all of the rubble sat Kronsire in his embodied suit of armor, as he rested upon his huge coffin without a care in the world.