Kings. Most notoriously known for their powers and wits. And yet, Asahi couldn't feel empathy for either of them, not even the body he possessed. The old body was meant to halt, and not kill Splinter; it must be some sort of crime. If it must come to it, he had to retrieve his old body before any more damage was done. The cathedral wreckage has already been initiated. The scars of a battlefield worn off in glee.
After one long night, Asahi swiftly returned to his soul to the earth and awoke without any alarm. His hands were tense. Fingers, wet. It had only been one night, and now the snow from the fog had ceased, revealing a giant silhouette, casting its shadow beneath and perched atop a snowy mountain.
"What the…?" he mumbled as he heard Splinter's old voice coming in. "What is that thing? Isolde, don't you see it?"
