His body stood at the peak of the world. It crumbled under his existence. The fridigity of the night could not reach him for the fires that rampaged below him seemed to have warmed him. Countless fresh wounds covered his body with many broken weapons still lodged in him. The pain didn't bother him.
Though his mouth did not smile, his gray eyes peered into the fires below him. His blue hair whipped around in accordance with the raging winds and the thunder that struck the ground as though it was God's wrath. Despite the lack of joy present on his face, he was still content with watching the world burn. He had no feelings of regret for his actions. Instead of regret, he knew that if he ever had the chance to do it again, he would.