I'm Breakable, Unbreakable [closed]

Barren branches snaked across the red horizon in countless different patterns, briefly marring the viscous red light that seemed to pour down from the eclipsed sun. The early Leaf-Fall air was chilly- due to both the cooling weather and the infernal atmosphere that had descended upon the forest in the wake of the alien phenomenon that had transpired the night before. Silence hung heavily in the stagnant air that weighed down upon Lichenmask, hardly a single whisper of a noise breaking through the oddly tranquil setting that he had conjured. Although it was oddly comforting to spend his time with the company of those who weren't howling for his blood, the Abandoned Barn had become much too noisy, much too quickly. He needed to think, he needed to read the signs that were placed before him, but he couldn't do such a feat when there was an ever-lasting clamor of noise. Remnants of exhaustion still pulsed within his veins, aching profusely within his bones. Even when he was only doing a task as simple as sitting, it felt as though he hadn't slept in days. It was as though conjuring the eclipse had taken a part of him whole in some bizarre version of alchemy- like such an extreme display of the powers he held had drained him of everything else. Letting out a sigh that ruffled his drooping whiskers, Lichenmask's heavy lids drifted shut.

They remained sealed for what felt like hours, yet couldn't possibly be more than a few moments. It was too difficult to shut off the whirling of his mind, the never-ending stream of whispers from voices that did not belong to him. However, it was not the strange happenings within his mind that tugged him back to the realm of consciousness. A strange tugging within his chest forced Lichenmask's gaze to reopen once more, greeted only by the dreary sight of the bloodied world before him. Something was stirring, and while it was still unseen to his eyes, he could feel it coming. He could feel the newfound tension rumbling within the air like a storm that had yet to break, the pounding of paws that drummed like the steady flowing of a rigorously beating heart. Ears pinning back into a silent state of alertness, the young tom's gaze narrowed a fraction as he awaited whatever was currently racing to meet him.

It had been hard. The dark sky didn't help her search either. However... she was unable to stop. Not even if her muscles screamed of exhaustion nor either if his stomach growled for food. None of those physical needs was important for the transformed she-cat who could only view in every corner the silhouette of the cat who was one her apprentice... the warrior who had caused all of this mess... the one she trained. Silverfang couldn't believe, she didn't want to believe it but the darkness inside her chest kept growing, driving her mad. For the first time in her life, she had truly felt what the weight of her actions had hurt her clan more than she thought. For the first time... she realized she was guilty of all this. Silverfang was the cat who trained Shade, the murderer rogue who kept attacking innocent cats for ambition... she was the one who had trained Lichenmask, the cat who had turned the sky black and now was feared by the five clans... She raised them... to be like this.

How was she supposed to look at her clanmates again after all what she had done? She had thrown away everything and it had changed her. She was not the same cat she thought she was... She was the one who gave birth to these twisted cats who used to be warriors. It was on all her... and that was why she had to find Lichenmask and his group. Maybe, it was not too late. Maybe she could change his mind if he still held some respect for his former mentor.

When she reached the abandoned barn, the place that the tracks led her too, her odd eyes could easily find that brown and white tom she knew, even at the distance. The scarred warrior knew it was him and she did not stop her race until she was a few paw-lengths away. Now, her presence was clear and the messy-haired cat had her odd eyes fixed on the tom with a fierce determination. Her breathing was fast and erratic, it was clear that she needed to rest but a stubborn and desperate she-cat like her couldn't do that. "Lichenmask... what have you done?" She finally mewed. Her voice sounded weaker, less fiery than usual but it kept that determination that kept her running non-stop to this place.

"Tell me something, Silverfang." The conviction that wavered miserably in Silverfang's voice hardly mirrored the quiet, self-assured determination that sparked within Lichenmask's clipped words. Gazing back evenly at his ruffled mentor, the young tom's features were as enigmatic as ever. Practically unrecognizable due to the blood that marred his fur and the swathes of red light that poured from the frightening sky, the cat who sat before the exhausted molly no longer resembled the young Apprentice she had once known so well. The causal question spoken heartbeats before hung heavily in the terse air, the brewing tension heightening to unbearable levels. The stinging sense of betrayal in Silverfang's eyes undeniable, even to the most blind of creatures. But how could he concern himself with something as futile as emotions when there was so little time? There is no price too great, the pressing memory of the countless voices constantly drifted after him, always eager to reprimand him for wasting time on something unrelated to the holy cause before him, there is nothing above what you must do. Lifting up a paw, grotesquely discolored by the dark blood that had dried upon his dust-flecked fur, the young tom smoothed down his ruffled chest fur as he gazed back at his former Mentor with a lacking sense of emotion.

"Who is more corrupt? He who kills the wicked, or he who protects the wicked?"

The she-cat didn't move a hair even though she was horrified by the monster her apprentice had become. Her odd gaze was immutable, determinedly looking into the eyes of the young cat she used to know. However, when he asked that question, Silverfang couldn't help blinking, shocked a little by the dilemma that the tom put on her. The scarred warrior clenched her fangs, a clear frown was visible in her face. She dug her claws and gazed away with a soft snarl, frustrated. "You already know what I believe... and I think my actions against Sweetheart and Wildfire can give you your answer." She spatted disgusted.

She taught him that. Her apprentice had to know what she had done for what she believed it was the best for the clan: killing a code-breaker and a murderer. Wasn't that was he was trying to do with those he called unpure to be clan cats? All of that ideology... it came from her and the manifestation of that was now the former RiverClanner. Yet... there was something that she didn't teach him. Something that defied every moral and law of the Warrior Code.

Silverfang stepped closer, determined but in pain. "I do believe a cat who protects the wicked is worse yet what you're doing... what you're planning to do... goes against the Code as well. You're stepping into a path of bloodshed that has no turn back and will only bring death, destruction and loss not only for you but for your groups of exiles and the clans as well! Please, Lichenmask, you have to stop this madness... don't turn into the monster that the prophecy said... if you hold any respect or affection for your fomer mentor... don't do this..."

"I know what I'm doing!" Lichenmask flashed back, exasperated lips curling back to reveal pristine teeth, "I've known since the first moment I could comprehend a singular thought. This is my destiny, whether you accept it or not- I have no choice in the matter, every stream merely runs back to the same river. No matter what I do, it always comes back to this, it is all that exists. All that is known and all that will ever be known in this life!" The young tom's head shook in a frenzied mixture of apprehension and dismay, a stubbornly lingering pinprick of grief threading its way through his heart. Why couldn't they understand? Why could they never understand? Those he loved most, those he needed most, all so quick to simply turn their backs upon him the moment his company was no longer beneficial. They had never wanted to help him, only themselves! Claws, still overly tender at the exertion that had befallen them during Fourtrees, shifted angrily through the decaying earth. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair! They had turned away from everything they had sworn to protect, yet he was the villain? A tensed strain coiled within his flexing extremities, surging with an irrational dismay as his head bowed forward. A profuse stinging burned behind his lids as he glared down at the earth, unwilling to meet the pleading gaze of Silverfang.

"StarClan riddled me an impossible question, one which has no right answer. To sacrifice the few for the survival of the many, or to sacrifice the many for the survival of the few? I made a decision, regardless of how painful it might seem, because a decision must be made before time is lost. If the price for survival is blood, then I am willing pay that price without hesitation."