In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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The Psychic grinned at the echo of the girls repeated words, so young and filled with hope. Xavier was beginning to get as annoyed as a Nobody could get at this pseudo implication of justice and used an ability he is most proud of. Illusions. The image of the Cold Psychic formed a circle around the chivalry youth and the real Xavier spoke through his illusions.
"All you do is repeat your words without offering up a single form of actual retaliation of meaning behind them. You call me weak but you stay back at the sight of a sword while any other would have seen that as a cause for action," the taunt, Xavier thought, would probably not work on this youth. He had seen it all before, some kid gets in way too deep and either dies or runs away from a fight they started. Xavier expected nothing more from this girl, so much in fact he made the illusions slowly dissipate like vapor into the air and took his place next to Jadis.
He eyed the girl once more as he spoke to his Mistress, "I do not wish to hold us up any longer than need be. Shall I continue to seek Relen or does this child need guidance even more?"
