Deeply tranced by the memories of his photographs of the past, Lux Buchanan had become stiff in his home. A single blink came upon his fear-induced eyes, and it was here he found himself reliving a memory of the past.

Hopelessly wandering about a bloody labyrinth of dead bodies and burning debris, Lux found himself stumbling amongst a mound of fallen knights. No longer was he a statue. His figure was like a dying flower, where his arms flailed about in a single spot, aching for a few more seconds of life. Blood gushed out from his half-slit torso, and his tears blinded his vision as he embraced the roasting hot bodies which he fell upon. His hands clawed away at the murky mess of his comrades, his fellow soldiers, but they found no footing for the fiery blasts of wind that scorched them into a mangled pool of flesh. All around him, blood and broken debris bathed him in a sea of destruction. In the distance, a single light flickered his way. It made him smirk with relief, but opening his mouth instantly let out a river of vomit.

Before his anguish could cease, his heart tangled with hope. Blazing with bright white energy, a quick-footed knight had managed to push through the mound of bodies and debris, making his way to the disgruntled Lux Buchanan. Hope. Lost so quickly. For in seconds, his glimmer of escape was slit through and through with a thousand cuts. Another indefinable name for the massacre to collect. Alas, with such spoiled sights, Lux Buchanan sat in a hopeless manner. His mission had failed.

Deep within a yearlong crusade to hunt down an answer to take down their very friend Edgar Westfield, the four legendary knights of Bournington had arrived at the city of Milun. Edgar was their friend. His antics and supposed evil entanglements with the strange Sin of Envy were prior viewed as mere faults of a slightly troubled man. But the massacre Envy had reigned upon the perilous city of Milun, was undoubtedly a sign of his chaotically evil nature. Such evil gathered a cult following, and it was these sin cultists of Envy that flooded the streets with sleight, shocking dominance. The four legendary knights gathered magical knights and held these powerful forces back upon each corner of the city, but for Lux, he appeared to have failed.

"Lux. Get up. We have a mission."

Just as his eyes were ready to accept a terrifying, tranquil death, Lux looked up to a golden bolt of white that peered down to him. Another of the four legendary knights of Bournington, Thomas Titanius stood with bold reclamation of the area Lux and his utterly tarnished knights laid within.

"You took a battering. Edgar really wants to get to that safe house. We have to hold him off." He said, his yellow locks of hair gliding about the fiery air.

"Time...to...die..." Mumbled Lux, his eyes drifting to a close.

"Do not be so stupid. You cannot escape this." Exclaimed Thomas, grasping Lux and sprawling him over his back. "We need to get you to Grove. He will heal you up." He said.

"My...soldiers..." Lux murmured.

"They fought well." Said Thomas, trudging through the sea of bodies. "We cannot save them. Edgar must be stopped. Rather, Envy must be stopped." He said.

"Envy...?" Thought Lux, his mind aching with the vibrations of nearby battle.

"Envy is our enemy. I know you are still in denial that our Edgar could become so evil, but he has. Some way or another..." Thomas stopped moving. "Edgar Westfield has died. Many more are joining him. It is up to us to stop the manic Envy who steals Edgar's body." He said, continuing onwards.

"We can still save him." A strangely giddy voice turned up beside Thomas and Lux. "I figure that is what Lux is thinking, right?" He asked, his hands illuminating a soft yellow warmth upon Lux's skin.

"Grove." Thomas sighed in relief at the sight of the short, brown-haired man before his eyes. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Indominus is on the front lines. I need to make sure you two are in tip-top condition!" Grove replied with excitement.

"Indominus and Lux...they are putting it all into this plan. Edgar is not coming back..." Muttered Thomas.

"Not with that energy! Stay hopeful. If Lux here is still living, why have you given up?" Nervously chuckled Grove.

"He should be dead." Commented Thomas.

"You should be helping Indominus." Quickly said Grove. "Lux and I will continue with the plan. Just buy us time." He pleaded.

"If this plan fails. I will capture Envy." Affirmed Thomas as he set off into a direction where the flames of battle roared onwards.

He had deserted his companions in a ruin of bodies, somewhere where ash was the very thing one could breathe. The thick, black ash had plagued the streets with a sense of visibility that pitied the blind. The only benefit to such harrowing darkness was the concealment of Grove Cornelius healing Lux. It did not take long for him to completely restore his companions’ body, for Grove was incredibly proficient in his divine power of healing. When Lux greatly recovered himself, the dark vision of the streets ceased with a single monumental swing of his sword. Slicing a path with his sword, Lux's efforts for better vision brought upon greater issues for the two of them. An arrow had sliced past the shoulder of Grove, and this invited a group of malicious sin cultists towards them. Stumbling backwards with fatigue, Grove receded whilst his companion looked on with a great sigh. Lux had only just been healed of his deathly injuries, and now he was once again in the heart of battle. His hands could not help it, though.

"I will fight. I must fight." He proclaimed. "Go. You are not fit for battle. Get to the safehouse. Find Eliza." He ordered Grove.

"The last of my strength has gone into you. Use it well, Lux." Said Grove.

Their final words symbolised a departure, and too did it signal Lux's departure from his brief memory of the past. His sense returned to the cold and wet room beneath his home in Duke. Within his aged hands, the photograph which sparked such images of the past crumbled up with emotional decay. His eyes were fiery with rage, his hands shivering with cold defeat, and his heart beating with sad sorrow.

"I failed."