A sharp pang went though my being when he spoke those words. The citidel of the glowing city flashed behind me, reflecting off of a pair of striking grey eyes; his eyes. "You were entranced by your own vision of perfection." He noted offhandedly, "It's not unusual; however, you shouldn't look at it for so long,"
He held up his fingertips and idly inspected his nails, "That city is one of false pleasure and idiotic want. You'll find little of value there."
I was shocked by his condemnation of such a beautiful city, it was... It was… gone. As I turned, I did not see the city of light. It had vanished; replaced with towers of black stone. "Agnoroch; the deceitful city. It's everything you want until you pass the city gate," Logic cleared his throat and the mound we were on rose again slightly, and I started to feel the faint strings of motion sickness.
"That is Hate and Rage's city. Should you enter; you will never return," he added in an uncaring cadence.
He didn't show physical interest either; he was completely at ease. I adjusted my seating so I wasn't kneeling, and looked towards the city...Agnoroch. "What does...Hate and Rage do?"
"They produce our armies; you call them endorphins. They are the main...force in our system; very violent, they rejoice in bloodshed."
Endorphins? The feel-good hormones? I gawked at Logic, and he stared right back, with inquisition in his eyes. “What?” He asked, perturbed, “Is there something on my face?”
“Endorphins?” I asked, balking, “Are you serious?”
“Oh, I’m always serious, never think that I’m not. Endorphins; our armies, are the single most oppressive force in your mind. They can destroy ideas, pillage goals, and burn ideals and beliefs to the ground,” He looked out to the red torches on the horizon.
“The Hearts,” he said the name with sharp venom, “are a resilient bunch. They lie too much and think too little; far too little.”
He turned to me, “The Hearts are merciless hot blooded killers. They believe in their judgment; they believe it to be true.”
“Who are they?” I probed, rising from my seat to stand.
“They are your "gut feeling",” he remarked, “Silly belief; that your stomach knows best. They represent your wants, your hopes, and your feelings.”
I swallowed hesatantly; following his line of sight. "How long have they been here?" I probed.
"Two weeks; by your reconing. They've had quite a bit of time to amass their forces." He cleared his throat sharply, "We should have arrived, Straden. Why the slow movement?"
"Terra Dragoons, and Gorgers, sir. We need to travel on light feet." The voice came from within a darkened hood; concealing the face, but I had little doubt about what he looked like.
"L-Logic," I pressed, "why are they just standing there?" The moving hill I was on bounced as if it had felt my unease.
"T-t-they br-b-brought the f-fight to uh-us," Nervous stuttered out.
Logic glanced at Nervous before nodding. "They did," he concieded. "They demand war."
I was bothered by his stoic disposition about this coming war; it was as if he was not concerned about it at all. Maybe he knew it was false. Surely if this was a dream it could not be real.
The ground under us violently shifted. Rolling like a pot of boiling water. I realized why.
I was shivering.
Deep chilled shudderings rose from the center of my being; causing me to jerk and twist. I couldn't breathe, the shudderings were so unbelievably intense. My joints and muscles kept locking and recoiling; my spine contorting and torquing as my head and neck wrenched violently around.
"War is a feeling, not an action," Logic continued immediately; not concerned with the boiling ground or my quavering body, "Remember this Leon; when a war begins it's not about the cause any more. When a war begins, the one who wins simply has more potent hatred for their enemies."
I wretched, twisted, and hysterically convulsed once more before my dream, Logic, and all the others were shocked away. Liquid dark engulfed me once more.