The Clock Struck Twelve

What a day it was. The floor glittered with little specs of crimson. The sun was shining and not a voice was heard. It was a quiet day. Zeon had a happy day. He cleaned the blade off on the old man's shirt, laughing as he did so, "Oh father, how I did love to see you try." The man's throat continued to spit red onto the floor, now creating a puddle. "Mother was a Starfall this whole time... and you kept her from me." Zeon was the last of his family, the only one to inherit the throne. All he wanted as power, and since he couldn't get it with a wish, he had to do it with a sword. He was growing furious with the traitorous family he was born into. Everyone was the same. No one cared about the dark elf. No one cared since the day he was brought back to life.

He awoke to find his mother dead, and his father weeping. Fools were they. They could have wished for something more, but Zeon had to be born into the same pitiful life he had before. But then there was the hooded man. Yes, the hooded man, the one Zeon met as a child. a corrupt man, a crazy man, a man that spoke in prose.

But right now... he had a mess on his throne.

"Let's... Clean up." said the boy. He was adjusting to the lack of hearing. Nameless had patched up some of himself to live a little better. "A... New world..." he uttered the words. It was a struggle to talk without knowing what he truley said. All Nameless could think of was his new host...

But for now, he served under the kingdom of Toonville for the one known as Zeon Eldia. It was him that found the body of the boy. Nameless only agreed due to the rotting flesh of his last host, Serapheal. The boy also had a supreme skill with threads and small creatures.

Something... Nameless enjoyed.

"Yes yes... of course..." Zeon was deviating a plot to take over the new world. In reality, he just wanted freedom to do as he pleased. If anyone stood in his way he would have no problem striking them down. Zeon was not a creature of ethics, but of reason. As long as Pandora didn't belong to him, he would continue to fight and reign terror across the land.

Zeon had plans for this world.

Nameless smiled as he made the way to the mess. It was a nice body, truly. Noble blood, a king. His face was feared and respected, something Nameless would enjoy. However, the man held no magic. That alone kept Nameless away from the man. Even though he was a strong host, he held no true power. Not anymore. However he was there for Nameless to feed off of, the memories.

Nameless liked his new host, but lacked in physical power. But the boy had a history with a Spider Queen and that pact alone... set him apart from the rest.

Zeon smiled at his ally, something he was proud of. As long as Nameless was on his side, he had a powerful friend. Nameless was something short of a disease, a virus rather. The host body would die, and Nameless would be required to move to a new body to live on. That friend would outlive Zeon almost a million lifetimes. That parasite would acquire new spells and skills as well as knowledge as it dies over and over. In Nameless' quest to find the perfect body, Zeon found his perfect soldier.

A Soldier that would never die, would never give up.

He was the perfect soldier to kill his enemies.