In anti-Prism, prince anti-tism ruled with an iron fist. His anti-rizzum would allow him to control his men like a mad puppeteer, who would gain a sick and perverse kick out of seeing his men die for him, But no matter how hard he fought with tism's army they never seemed to falter always standing back up even his own men gain an undead hint to the aura they produced as they would join tism's army. Inside tism tent a group of 8 men gathered around a table made of a cold marble that looks like snow from the highest tips of the world simple gazing at it would remind you of a long lost childhood where you and your family would gather around a fire on a cold winters night. After a long silence one man spoke his voice echoed a hint of moral almost to the point where you would think that what ever he said would happen, this man stood around 1.8m tall wearing a smooth black iron suit of armour a lot like that of anti-tism men, if you were to see him you would think he was an undead soldier but in fact this man was tism most trusted man, squire lucky his eye reflected that of a once lost deep sea, a simple gaze would make you long for the sea and its salty taste, as lucky spoke the air around them seemed to make a barrier around them not allowing any sound to penetrate "anti-tism men have fallen to about 40% of what it was, i would estimate that we would be able to storm his land with the month" as he spoke the other 7 men muttered at this statement's plausibility, but all ways that they would try to bring up would be brought down in an instant by lucky, it made his words feel like a law that the world would follow, this was due to his rizzum "luck's blessed" it would allow his to have an increased luck with anything not to the point where nothing bad would happen but to the point where his men would only die half of the time, but unlike other rizzum's lucky's had a drawback anything that would defies the laws of the world would be reflected back to him, all the cut and bruises that his men did not receive would be forced to him, under his deep sea eyes was a torrent of pain that was ravaging his body as cuts covered his body i was no wonder that his words would have such an impact on the other men in the tent, because the person carrying this war on there back was him. all the men in the tent grew silent until another man spoke
