Executioner

A man clad in black, metallic armor stands in a burning building. He looks up to the sky and sighs.

I serve a being that has surpassed the confounds of this world and become a God. I wish to defy this 'God' but I cannot--yet. The lives lost to my axe I pin on him, but I know where the blame truly lies. Me. I use my axe to viciously execute those 'God' deems unfit whilst carrying a thought of rebellion deep within. I liken myself to a revolutionary to maintain my sanity, but I am not.

I am a coward.

But, I have a daughter. As an elf, we can sense the death of our bloodline. I know she's out there struggling to survive. I will find her. I will save her.

For now, I serve. I serve and sow a deep sorrow. Regret. I serve an evil god, and I am no better.

I am an executioner.

"Sire!" a young squadron member interrupts my thoughts.

I narrow my eyes at him, "Hm?"

"Uhm, I have an important message from the Lord," he gulps in fear of me.

"Speak."

"Right! *Ahem* There has been a disturbance, and the Lord wishes to receive you back at the castle immediately. As well, the complete council will be attending. This is of utmost urgency."

I grit my teeth and quickly chop off the messenger's head. I'm lucky that he was instructed to send me the message alone since I won't need to bloody my hands further. Even for a simple message like this, anything directly involving 'God' requires me to tie up loose ends.

"Tch," I hate my actions. I could've told the messenger to flee instead, but I acted in the exact way that was expected of me. Fear. I've become a harbinger for what drives me myself. I'm so scared of an evil being that I'm willing to be that evil being.

I'm scared, but I think 'God' is too. The strength and paranoia needed to get to his level of power necessitate this. Perhaps, my fear will turn me into a being that can harm him.

Hopefully, I'm not too far gone by that point.