[center][img]https://i.gyazo.com/c12effa38ced5a2b0c56b6ae5fa5d910.png[/img][/center] [hr] Beautiful. Those two were [i]beautiful[/i]. Elegant, poised, in total command of their Elementa and Gladii. More than wielders, more than users, Rivka and Crystal [i]embodied[/i] their elements, the twin extremes of heat and cold— presence and absence of energy. They both tore through the Nox in front of them as if lifelong combatants against Mankind's Greatest Foe, leveling primal force onto the field with natural ease. They returned invigorated, staring down the door they had just opened within themselves into the great depths of power they now held. Changed, however minutely, by the light they bore within them. When it came time to lower Selma into the proverbial ring, their words, glances and pats on the back couldn't even begin to hope to encourage her more than their performances had. In mere moments, she too would be ascendant. She would partake in the grandest honor of all— becoming a heroine to beat back the night. Rivka and Crystal now knew a jubilation only a precious few could ever hope to grasp. Magic made them so [i]alive[/i], even compared to that time three days ago in the tunnel, now feeling ages past. As the brown, once orange, once green leaves softly crumpled beneath her feet, the tall girl fought an inescapable urge to fidget as the exercise began, nervous energy doubtlessly still bleeding through to the observers in that rower far away from this derelict of steel, concrete and glass. Whether or not they were looking at her expectantly, whether or not she could measure up to the ease they'd shown— what did it matter to her? This was the moment she had awaited since she first learned she was a candidate. No two ways about this. It was purely hers. She took a deep breath of crisp morning air, as for the first time her earpiece sounded. [i]“Now lowering diffusion level. Nox levels rising.”[/i] At first, the most deciduous Ars Magi wrote it off as something in her ear. Maybe some small bit of pressure change going down the tower and into ground level mucking thing up, as the air sorted itself out. [i]"Nox levels still rising."[/i] She soon realized she was deathly wrong, as it continued to build. First a stone, then a boulder, then a mountain, until finally it felt as though the world itself pressed upon her mind. A massive pressure, crushing all thought and focus to dust. she fought to simply breathe, her vision not going dark inasmuch as it went blank, form and contrast fading in and out as the poison assaulted her very essence. This was what lay outside the walls, she recognized for a fleeting moment. This Hell. [i]“Manifestation of Voids detected.”[/i] [color=00a99d]"Urgh."[/color] And these demons. Space felt fluctuated once, twice, thrice as Miss Rosmarie's eyes found themselves shut by a furrowed brow and the rare scowl, somehow further intensifying the sensation of her consciousness and awareness being squeezed dry of thought. She stood stock still, body fighting through the brain's unwiring to keep itself upright as the Voids began to slowly creep forward, toward their newly spotted prey. Each step wrenched the towel of her self further, each stride drawing more and more disparity, distinction, definition out of her. This haze of wisps that once made a train of thought felt... a lot like that surgery she'd just recovered from. That dream. To be scattered by a power beyond humanity, wasn't it? Only this was a hostility rather than nature itself— corruption, not purity. The shadows of the world, blight that had swept nations and forced not just humanity, but life itself from the land. Diametric opposition to what she felt then. Yet that contrast made it all the easier for her to find the escape rope back to self. Deep within her now was a great, lush [i]center[/i]. That forest of oak, once again, atop that sturdy bedrock. A place for her soul to brace against, push back outward, and reach for that light buried deep within the soil. Deep within her, carrying that untold, unrivaled, ultimate liberating power. [hr] [center][color=00a651][b]Ｍａｙ　ｔｈｅ　Ｗｏｒｌｄ　Ｑｕａｋｅ[/b][/color][/center] [hr] [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgWvr92Wgqk]The Voids pounced, and Selma stood in a field of Emerald.[/url] Her clothes fell away to dust, as a ring of green tinged white exploded outward from the verdant gem in her navel, wreathing her statuesque form in a cloak of arcane power. Flecks of emerald scattered in its wake— not the Armagus itself, but formations of the magic it commanded. They swung into a tight orbit around her, one, two, three revolutions going by before descending to the earth beneath the field of light, as though tracing a circle of magic around their mistress. The girl in white took a deep breath, and made a single heavy stomp upon the ground. Instantly, the emeralds rose as though launched skyward, drawing level with the Armagus at her core and then splitting into twin rings that traversed outwards through her full height. In their passage, that blinding light that had so long concealed form gave way to sturdy leathers and hide, thick and tough browns supported by multitudes of straps that gave direction and frame to her uniquely rustic parma, one that looked for all the world to belong to some ancient warrior. As it settled onto her body, she felt the magic too settle within her, bolstering her bones, her muscles, her spirit. She felt strong, fast, fiercer than she ever dared dream. Elated and energized, as the upper ring passed her face and she could suddenly read the words of a dilapidated sign a hundred meters away, her eyes and hair almost aglow with the hue of brilliant green. The gems broke off now, reorienting and coalescing around her shoulders, shins, and forearms, giving only momentary pause befrone slamming into her frame. Encasing her limbs, they shone brilliantly— and with the sound of splitting rubble, gave way to shaped metal plating, true armor that coursed with the magical protective force all Parma gave. Her newly gauntleted hand closed around a thin line of green, the last flecks left, as they melted into the shape of a sturdy, somehow intrinsically familiar axe. Her Gladius. She swung it once, twice, unable to control her grin at how right it felt despite its almost ostentatious size— [color=00a651]"HAH!"[/color] And the third stopped the nearmost Void in its tracks, biting so very deep into its chest as blackened claws swiped desperately for her face, anything that would wipe off that girl with bared teeth from the face of the Earth. But it was to no avail. The next second, as the light of her ascendance had only just begun to fade, the Void found itself swung by that same wound, that same axe, straight off the ground in a giant arc around her. [color=00a651]"Ahahahaha! Woohoo!"[/color] A deadly waltz, lead by laughter, mania, and entirely too much strength as it was summarily [i]launched[/i] when it came back around, slamming into the Void behind it. Heedless of the sounds of crumpling obsidian evil as the first expired, or the great crash of them slamming into a conveniently placed skyscraper, Selma reached out and grasped for the last fading wisps of transformative luminescence. Something was missing. Just one last little thing... Void, being constructs of Nox run rampant more than true life itself, did not experience any fear at the display. All it saw was a preoccupied enemy. It lunged for her midsection, lower than the previous two. Cunning enough to switch tactics? Savage enough to simply prefer disemboweling her to ripping her throat? Selma didn't know. It [i]didn't matter.[/i] Her hand finally came around one last ribbon that hung within the air, and she exploded into motion as she felt the Void's footfalls take it in close enough to enter her reach. She stamped her foot down once again, much like she first did three days ago when clumsily, so weakly and clumsily, tried to harness ambient Nox to work her Sonar. In retrospect, while it was fine for not being a magical warrior yet, it was so much for so little. This time, there was a whole lot more she could do. A sudden outcrop of stone, shaped like a pillar and long as she was tall, erupted into the Void's chin from beneath, halting its advance and knocking it skyward. She swung her newly obtained thread of sunbeam, of light, towards the suspended devil made manifest, the alabaster glow finally giving way to a long, warm, sturdy ribbon of white fabric. One that wrapped around the Void's ankle and pulled taut, as Selma ripped it through the air in a meteoric arc hurtling down towards the pavement without any escape from the splat at the end. Her improvised flail cracked the pavement, the jagged geometries etched into its skin smashing beyond recognition as its wispy frame was pulverised by the impact. If it were not the face of the evil that had taken their homelands from them, Selma might have even pitied the hopeless bastard... The final void, shoving its faded compatriot off of its body, had nearly dug itself free from the rubble of the building's (former) west wall. Her little brother of a Gladius at its side, it just needed to get a larger section of concrete off of its back. [color=00a651][i]Might.[/i][/color] She spun to face it again and threw the bolt of white cloth over her shoulder, Parma finally feeling right with a scarf 'round her neck. Ah, the missing little link made it all click into place— she even had an idea about how to help the last of her three "friends" with his problem! All it took was going back to her roots, just a little bit! Back to horsing around! She broke into a run, feeling for all the world to be on the moon as her strides chewed up distance with superhuman speed, culminating in a Herculean leap skyward that took her a good dozen feet into the void above the struggling nox golem. For a moment, she was singularly out of her element, with no connection to the stable ground beneath her feet or sturdy rock to support herself on. In her inexperience, there was a small chance she'd even tricked herself into vulnerability, were this a real battle and not wholesale slaughter. [color=00A651]"AHAHAHAHA, COMING DOWN FROM THE TOP ROPE, [i]ARSCHGEIGE[/i]! [b][i]WELCOME TO HELL IN A SELMA![/i][/b]"[/color] And then she plummeted back home, body falling in behind the armor clad point of her elbow, in what she would quite proudly put forth as the greatest candidate the Academy had ever seen for "The Drop Heard Round the World". At the very least, there wasn't a chance on Earth it wouldn't be [i]today's[/i] best. An almighty crash filled the air as the emerald thunderbolt impacted the mass of concrete, and the Nox beneath learned the meaning of being stuck between The Rock and A Hard Place. The section of manmade stone that had before so troubled it gave way beneath her armor and bone, rattling her skeleton where it would once be rendered powder. The force of the drop, the weight of the structure's two halves suddenly coaxing downward, pushed the Void's spindly frame past its limits, whatever pseudoskeleton holding it together snapping beneath the load. It reached out one last time, dumb instinct or programming or what-have-you still trying to free itself. And its last moments were, of course, dictated by the weight and splitting edge of [i]Kleinbruder[/i], freeing it of its head. No more worries about being stuck under something, right? Now he could join his friends, back in the nothingness that had birthed them. Happy end for everyone! The dust began to settle around her, and at it's epicenter, the young conifer sat on her haunches, perched atop the rubble as though enthroned. Awash with the rush of combat, of glorious victory, of seeing the new horizons of possibilities and potential before her, Selma threw her head back and laughed yet again, ringing peals of joy echoing throughout the once-quiet streets.