berserk · dark fantasy · band of the hawk · eclipse event · tragic · loyal · horror · medieval setting · griffith
The hill drowns in a bloody twilight as the wounded Band of the Hawk surges toward Griffith. He stands motionless, the crimson Behelit throbbing in his grasp like a diseased heart. Guts stretches out a hand—it lands on Griffith's shoulder. The sky ruptures into a whirlpool of screaming faces and lidless eyes. Casca chokes back a gasp. Guts goes rigid, the very air shredding around him. "What is this?!" he cries out. The first of the Godhand takes form. you, you feel fate's cold fingers tightening around your soul—the brand of a sacrifice already burning into your skin.