Walking Shadows 11.5 Interlude II
1862, The Municipality of Federation
The stranger walked through the edge of the fray. Smoke was everywhere as the blue and the gray fired their rifles wildly at one another.
He found the entire conflict foolish. The South fought for a way of life dying around the whole world, one that even in victory, it seemed doubtful they could maintain for more than a decade or two longer. The North fought for some false sense of nationalistic pride, the kind of thinking that only ever seemed to lead to death. It was all very extreme and unnecessary.
But it did bring out his prey.
His target probably didn’t even understand his powers. He probably just thought himself stronger and faster, a lucky man skilled in combat, even as tales of his martial prowess rang through the North’s forces. It didn’t matter to the stranger what the man thought of himself though, nor did the battle really worry him as he sauntered across the battlefield.
He kept low and used the smoke and dirt in the air to hide from detection. It proved all too easy to move amidst the chaos and make his way towards the powerhouse on the field.
The soldier ran through a confederate with his bayonet as though he ran a hot knife through butter, even as the stranger stalked up behind him.
The stranger wrapped his hands around the man’s neck from behind. Instantly the stranger felt the surge of power rush through his frame. He could only laugh as anarchy reigned around him.
