A billion invisible arrows cascade down. Razor shards of moonlight, every RNA strand a prayer to Artemis. They seek the breath. They seek the brain. They seek the heart.

They find only smoke.

From Mynx's breath pours an unsettling, unnatural corpse smoke; rolled and dried bone ignited. The cigars of Thelis Thist, the Eater of the Dead, who fought and lost against Mynx on the world of Salib. Bloody fragments of the assassins who had come before, and died at the hands of the Azura predator. In each is a fragment of the divine power that allows the assassins to reach such heights of power. She breathes it in.

What was it she was trained for?

She could not survive Bella. Even now. No physical shape could overcome the perfection of cat and girl. She was outnumbered, outplanned, out-thought. Her body could not evolve answers here, and so Demeter was useless to her. Aphrodite was useless to her. She blinked her eyes, her beautiful eyes, open and shining like moonlight, the scent of death on her lips.

She is a hunter. A [i]hunter[/i]. And a hunter uses tools.

She looks like Mynx again. A Mynx as she might exist in her own dreams; beautiful and alien to herself. Feminine and fluid and armed with a Thunderbolt pistol she uses to blow Bella away with the snap precision of an Ikarani. A clinical motion, stolen muscle memories, already she's snapping together a reload. It's such an easy motion for her mind to make. When confronted, withdraw. Withdraw into being a different person. She abandoned Mynx to be the monster and now she can abandon the monster to be a hunter. She has passed by the Scylla of Aphrodite and the Charybdis of Demeter. Instincts deeper than both gods animate her now. She lives, she loves, but she does both on behalf of Artemis. 

Her hands shiver as they form the terrifying claws of a Diodekoi, bone armour plating running up to her shoulders. Her hands steady as they grip the pistol, two shots remaining. Her eyes flash as they scan the darkness for the missing piece, for Beautiful. Her eyes focus with each movement of the bloody girls before her, tracking their deaths and calculating the power this hunt might extract from their bones. 

She is transcendent. An avatar of a goddess. The final moment of perfection to which the Assassins of the Temple aspire. A new Eater of the Dead.