[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/O34hemi.png[/img]
[sub][@Ariamis][@BrokenPromise][/sub][/center]
Faster, faster, faster! Lupa and Helga danced through the boundary of the mob of ghosts, their claws tearing through the gossamer spirits so easily that it was as if there was nothing there at all. Ghostly essence scattered into the winter air, yet still, none of spirits sought to strike back. The song of the Endsinger truly was wonderful; even through Lupa’s amplified screaming, even through Helga’s sound-nullifying seals, her song rang clear in their minds, urging their slaughter further. Who cared for death, when they had already died? Who feared oblivion, when the reaper’s tune was so charming? To be free of their grudges, to be struck down again, none of those ghosts drawn to the rambunctious hammering of the lich sought to fight back against the two magical girls. And as they died, they left their grudges and their sorrows, their regrets and their hatred behind.

Left behind to seep into the soul of their slaughterers.

Scarlet memories crawled into the frenzied girls’ mind, flashes of faces they didn’t remember. Lovers that had betrayed “them”. Bullies that had tormented “them”. Guardians that had abandoned “them”. Bloodlust heightened, and yet, where was the blood? That warm, red ichor that granted absolution for all the weakness that “they” displayed in the past? All they had swung for were shadows of humans, dispersed like figures in the fog, so where could they find something more real, something more alive? Something that could [i]resist[/i]?

Lupa slew another dozen uncaring spirits before she arrived to an answer.

There was someone right beside her that fit the bill.

[sub][center][@Ariamis][@Asuras][/center][/sub]
Three bright stars shot towards the epicenter of the concert, their respective weapons raised. And yet, of the three, none managed to reach their destination. One hundred arms rose from the mass of aerial spirits to block, and though the magical trio’s combined might was enough to smash through twenty of the spectral appendages, the eighty that remained hurled them back. Coalescing into existence, a sickly green guardian, ten meters tall with a flower bud for a head, stood on empty air, its eighty remaining arms folded. Unclothed and androgynous, the guardian was certainly a cut above the rest of the spirits. It was [i]employed[/i], after all, to keep annoying people from randomly jumping onto the stage while Endsinger performed. Flexing its beautifully sculpted muscles and folding all eight of its arms over its majestically heroic pecs, the Budhead Bouncer shook his head at the three.

[b]“Now now, ladies,”[/b] the Bouncer said, its voice booming through their minds,[b] “I understand that you’ve got to protect the city and all that, but I have to ask you to wait till after the concert is over at its normal time before you can make such declarations, understood? Now, unless you’re willing to pay the fee, I believe that I’ll have to remove you from this venue for your disruptive behaviour.”[/b]

Ten of its arms extended outwards, pointing back the way you came.

[b]“Though I’m a pacifist at heart, so if you could just leave peacefully, that’d be wonderful too.”[/b]

[sub][center][@Shifter_Master][/center][/sub]
Viva flew high, her final two shots lined up perfectly for the Endsinger’s wailing skull. Narrowing her eyes, she squeezed the trigger right as the mass of humanoid spirits in the front row slammed something down into the rubble.

[b]“Uuuuuuurya!”[/b]

Brilliant amber lights burst out from their hands, a flash so potent that the motorcycling gungirl flinched, her two shots going wide. They shattered the concrete like fireworks, and Endsinger took this chance to go into a guitar solo, her eldritch strings enrapturing the crowds as those amber lights grew brighter all around. Viva landed among them, and this close to the mania, she could see exactly what those ghostly fans wielded: glowsticks.

Most spirits had been called to this place by the Endsinger’s signal, but her fans, her hardcore, diehard fans that had supported her ever since she was a mere Wailing Woman, trying to make it big in the underworld, had arrived the moment she stepped upon her ruinous stage. Now, surrounded by these impassioned devotees, Viva was subjected to the full extent of their fervor.

[b]“CYBER, CYBER, FIRE, FIRE, SHYAAAAAAA JYA!”[/b]

It was cringy and awful and sorta gross, especially when their physical exertion somehow made them sweat ghostly juices, but as the three hundred or so spartan dancers swung their glowsticks in unison, shuffling their spread-apart feet like a bunch of demented crabs, a strange thought entered Viva’s head.

Huh, it looked kinda fun.

The song was catchy too.

Wasn’t like they were doing anything [i]bad[/i] either.

The glowsticks continued to swing through the air, etching hypnotic patterns into Viva’s brain, as her index finger began to tap to the beat.

[sub][center][@FamishedPants][/center][/sub]
Endsinger winked at Emily (Or did she? Pretty unlikely that she'd spot or care about someone that far away...) and stomped the mountain of rubble she was styling on, causing jets of otherworldly flame to burst up before going full acapella with her wailing screeches.