No, you did not miss Divergence 1.

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Rainen jumped using his ability, going so futilely. Somewhere within his heart, he knew he would not make it, he knew he could not make it. Yet, just like every other human being in existence, he felt the need to lie to himself. The comfort he sought was founded through his promise, if he promised her then he'd surely be able to make it right? There's no way that he'd break a promise to a friend.

When Rainen arrived, he saw Anne laying on the ground, surrounded by, what his fuzzy mind made out to be, red lilies.

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The sword came down.

"What?" Yalsal looked at his hand which had held the sword. His good hand laid next to the sword on the floor, the white of his bone was visible just a moment before it was washed over by the red of the flowing blood. "ARRRRRRRRGG!"

Using his mangled hand, Yalsal started healing his hand, totally unaware of the person before him. Anne glanced up at the dark figure, her blurry vision still was able to make him out. Wearing a dark green cloak, with his face hidden behind the shade of the hood, the man held a bloodied short sword in his hand.

"Yalsal!" Undor roared as he charged forward. "Move out of the way!" Undor barreled through all the bodies on the floor, his lanky arms used them to help push himself. He lept into the air and, bigger than most gorilla beastmen, brought his massive arms down to crush the man.

The man stepped to the side, "Stupid monkey, so slow." he spun and kicked Undor away, his large body meant nothing to the cloaked figure.

Yalsal, who had stopped the bleeding, sought to create distance between them. As he saw his friend who was twice his size sent away with a simple kick, he flung spell after spell, hoping that the man would be deterred by them. When the smoke cleared, Yalsal bore a blank face, how was the man still standing?

Yalsal was no fool, he knew that a barrier would've stopped his weaker attacks so he used his ability to stop the man from cast any spells. Though the ones he had just launched were not up to par with his usual assaults, it still would've been enough to severely hurt the average magician yet, he had taken all of it with only the most basic of a mage's defenses.

Anne too, through her dream like state in which she saw the world in a bright white, could not believe the scene that had taken place before her. To reach such a level where a barrier wasn't needed for those level of spells, one had to bare vigorous hardships in where the body was tested over and over again.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the beastman get up, the man didn't seem to have noticed. Anne once again wanted to shout, scream, but for a different reason, not to use her ability but to help the person who was fighting off her enemies. Even he, whom seemed so strong, to take a hit from such a beastman would mean serious injury or pain, despite the level of their natural armor.

Her voice did not reach, and it did not matter.

Undor charged, but without a sound befitting that of a fully muscled three hundred pound beast, his person made no noise. Like an assassin, Undor approached the man's open back. He pulled his arm to the side, about to land a heavy blow that would disable any man, and swung.

Just like his friend, like Yalsal, it took a moment for Undor to realize what just happened. Oddly enough, the man still had his back to him. Undor thought it strange, should the man not be on the other side of the room right now? And why was he at a weird angle? Undor himself had come from right behind him, if anything, the man should still be directly under him, not off to the side.

Through his sense that now seemed to be keener than before, the world slowing around him, he felt and odd imbalance and an irresistible itch that taunted him. His slowed perception of time, the godlike speed in which his mind processed events so that the world was still to him, only served to make matters worse. He wanted to look down at his arm where the itch was, he wanted to scratch it with his other hand, but his bodily functions had ceased.

*ZZT*

Huh? A white spark brought him to attention. His head drooped down, chin meeting with chest, and saw a blade serrated by electricity. Yet, Undor could only see less than an inch of the true blade. Where was the rest of it? Undor tried to look around but his eyes were glued onto the sword which was held in a backwards way by the man.

That's when he noticed, the blade, the rest of it, was buried within him.

The man walked forward, the sword slipped out, facing no resistance. As the cloaked man left the shadow of the beastman, the large ape fell. With his head falling level with his arms, only his left eye, closest one to the ground, could not see. Through his right eye, though some vision was broken by his left arm, could see the bodies of multiple guards and pathways to other parts of the city perfectly.

Yet, something didn't seem to match, his arms were massive, together they were larger than his head. How come he could see over them while they laid above each other? Ah. he thought as he saw the bloody stump where the rest of his right arm once was. His vision faded, landing him in a pit of darkness.

"UNDOR!" Yalsal backed away. With no response from his partner, he turned around. Making a mad dash, he hurried to distance himself from the man, he sought comfort in the endless branching tunnels of the waterworks.

The man carelessly walked towards him.

Yalsal, going so recklessly, tripped over a body. His wind escaped him as he lay flat on his chest. Quickly recovering, Yalsal started again, and, like before, tripped. He risked a glance behind him, a glance at the man who had so easily taken out his partner. The sight of him, less than a few meters away, reinvigorated the magician. How had the man closed the distance so quickly?

Yalsal continued to run while stumbling over the bodies of fallen guards. He fell to the floor once more, and, just like that, felt a sharp pain run through his back. The light started to fade from his eyes and he rest his head against the cold ground.

Joining the people who had once bloomed so nicely, his buds began to close, the life started to drain from his body. The pain began to feel faint, like a wound one may remember from a dream, a memory. As his eyes closed and he shut out all light, he saw what seemed like a faint smile from one of the fallen guards. I see. They were working against me. How unfortunate.

The man pulled out his sword which was now covered in the blood of two fallen foes. He bent down and lifted up the loose bits of Yalsal's clothing. With a quick motion, he stained the fabric in blood while allowing the silver of the steel to shine again.

Anne's own heart shook as the man made his way over to her, while still bearing his sword. In one motion, he slid the blade into its highly embroidered scabbard. She relaxed, the man had come to aid her after all.

Bending down, he lifted her from the floor and placed her against the wall where she sat upright. She wanted to thank her savior but had no words that would spill from her lips. She froze for a moment as the feeling of disgust flooded her as he ran his fingers along her cheek, but it soon changed when she realized he didn't mean it in that way.

Once again he did it, as if believing it was a dream. The way his cold hand lingered on her cheek filled her with confusion. Why had he come to save her? Who was he? Did he know her?

Then, he spoke.

"I can do it." he brushed her cheek once more. "I can do it."

As a rumble came from upstairs, the man turned his head. Rising to his feet in a hurry, the man made for the ever branching tunnels.

Anne somehow, through her will, was able to raise her hand, reaching out for him, but it was already too late. The man had left.

A somber mood washed over her relief, engulfing her whole. Anne wanted to comfort the figure but had no strength to do so. The words which the person had spoken were filled with determination. Powerful, was the man who saved her, yet, underneath his stoic nature, she sensed that he had lost his way while looking for salvation. The man had a goal, he had power to achieve it, but behind it all... he was broken.

"Anne?" a voice called out. It was weak but held warmth and concern. It was that of a boy who cared for those around him.

"A-ah." she was able to only muster that much as she prayed for the poor soul who had saved her, and yet failed in saving himself.

She could only hope that he found the light at the end, wherever it was.