CrossRoad · Solipsism · One - III

Indeed... contemplating trivialities could never aid her breakthrough. Only combat, only carnage! Ansel...

"Ansel!"

She cackled maniacally in the storm, her severed vocal cords regenerating at a terrifying pace. Forgetting her mission, her obligations, all thoughts of not disrupting Ansel's plans, Seraphina Marlowe had never felt so free, so enlightened, and so... powerful!

Landing point, trajectory, path - the sole route through hundreds of whirling blades to reach Ansel, a fleeting one-in-ten-million chance.

I... have seized it!

I have seized it!

She wrung out the last dregs of aether from her body, no... not just wrung out, but overdrew, greedily devouring herself, her flesh, transmuting it into even more potent power. An unprecedented surge of crimson-black energy erupted from her tattered form, so pure it wasn't instantly shredded by the storm!