This is not an act of loyalty. 

Bella's bare feet drag heavily across the floor to the sound of her toe claws scraping across the marble before she lifts or plants them fresh again. Her soles slap lazily with every step, the loudest she's ever moved in her life. Her legs are filled with lead, but they move her anyway. Her feet ache dully as she goes, but they bear her weight all the same. Her tail droops limply behind her, much the same as the ears atop her head.

The smell of blood reaches her nose. Her hand lifts toward her mouth on reflex to cover her gagging, but she lets it fall again before it reaches halfway. Her stomach barely bothers to churn this time in any case, so easy to ignore it may as well not be happening. The blood spatters and messes of feathers look muted next to the spots swimming in her eyes. Even OMN, for all the effort she put into polishing it, seems as dull and dusty as if she'd left it to rot for another 300 years. Ugly piece of shit. But even so, it's here.

This is not an act of loyalty. 

Too fragile to fight, too useless to run. It's a machine, fulfilling its function like all machines do in that stupid way of theirs. To be loyal it would have to be capable of betrayal. All this stupid toy could do was process and advise, forever and ever, never ceasing and never caring that its client kept changing with the blowing of the winds. Pointless to put her faith in something that could be stolen and turned against her as easily as blinking. 

Her right hand clenches into a fist. Her left flexes her claws menacingly, talons flashing in the muted light. Her hollow eyes stare into its burnished surface, watching her reflection with an unreadable look on her face. 

"Do you require information?" it dutifully repeats. 

Bella clicks her tongue. Relaxing her hand, she stretches her neck and forces herself back to her full height. She tosses her hair back carelessly as she turns her gaze to the paths the others must have taken as they abandoned her to this scrap heap. Loyalty was worth less than shit, anyway.

"That [i]monster[/i] that the princess becomes..."

Bella curls and stretches the fingers on her ruined right hand in front of her face, twisting it in the air as though looking for an angle where it didn't show her shame. It squeezes itself back into a fist, and she slams it against the wall with a hollow clang that fills the room with the sound of prayer bells. The aspects of Athena stare into her in all of their varied emotions and degrees of wrath. She ignores them, and returns her attention to Omn. She snarls.

"I need a weapon. One that'd make me stronger than even she is, no matter how much she tries to hide behind Zeus' skirts."