Salem stood frozen in the elevator as she continued to ponder. Everything that she had previously known had been called into question after meeting her. All she could do was ponder in silence, her sense of regret for ever meeting Alia growing by the minute.
Just like the dark-skinned girl had suggested, Salem found herself ascending the Strand in search of a place to stay. The small tubular elevators located in the tower provided plenty of space for the entire group - albeit their speed left much to be desired. Such a slow journey at the very least gave Salem much-needed time to think. The red-eyed mother stared out the elevator's window, unsure of what her next move would be as she observed the beautiful city below.
"Korus told me there's a room on the eight hundred and fifth floor under Ina's name," Valor spoke, breaking the silence. "May I ask, who is Ina?"
"You took the time to talk to him once again didn't you," Anger growled. "He and the girl are the so-called rulers of this place. Be glad they are on Mother's side. Take the room and give her rest."
"Excuse me," Ali gestured to the pair of machines, her purple eyes twinkling with innocence. "Who are you two?"
"Ah! My name is-."
"She abuses you...doesn't she," Salem interrupted. "And she's counting on me to care so she can strike later."
Ali crossed her arms together and frowned with visible distaste. It was not in her nature to lash out at others, but she could not stand idly by why her maker was so horribly misunderstood.
"You do not understand her miss," Ali explained. "She is a complicated girl."
"Is she?" Salem spoke with a more gentle voice after recognizing the doll's patience with her.
"Yes, she has shown me great kindness before. I fear something has soured her mood."
"Well, either way, I have to kill her, even if it means playing along with these silly games."
"She is very powerful, I do not recommend a rash move miss."
"I understand what she can do," the mother hissed as she projected a flower around her left hand. "But next time I won't be so polite."
But what Salem did not understand was the nature of the doll who stood beside her. She then moved closer to Ali and grasped her arm as gently as she could before studying her closely. Salem was no stranger to the art of the machine yet found herself quite perplexed. In her professional opinion, Ali's entire design seemed to contradict itself.
The doll possessed flesh as real as a human, yet still retained a crude design in the form of black joints and skeletal fingers. Ironically, the rest of Ali's features were perfect and smooth while the frame of her body appeared weak and fragile. It was as if Alia had purposely reduced the complexity and practicality of her creation simply for the style of it all.
"She made you so real, yet kept you machine enough to fool no one," Salem mumbled. "What an idiot."
"I'm sorry my design displeases you," Ali sighed with a monotone expression.
"That's not what I meant," Salem stammered.
The elevator to the Strand's top then opened, revealing the group's nightly stay. They had arrived at a small bedroom with a single sink and a queen-sized bed. The colors of the room were a drab silver with touches of golden fabric, with a stale white light shining at the center. Salem was unusually impressed with the simple decorum, and as she continued to look around, it soon became clear Ina had selected the room rather deliberately in order to suit her friend's less goddy tastes. Turning back to her children, Salem motioned for them to step closer and listen to what she had to say.
"Valor," she whispered as she reached out to her son.
"Yes, Mother?" Valor replied with curiosity in his voice.
"What were you thinking back there?!" The flustered woman frowned as she tugged at the plates around Valor's eye as if pinching his cheeks. "You can't be so reckless, no matter how you feel about things."
"But you act rashly all the time Mother, did you not say to fight for the things we believe in?"
"That's not the point! We must all think before we act, and that goes for me too. I'm not exactly a role model I know, but look to your brother Anger. He always waits patiently, sometimes even too much for my liking."
"I understand Mother," Valor lowered his head. "I apologize."
"Don't fret too much about it my sweet knight, in due time I will need you both to be ready for anything," Salem smiled with love in her voice. "You too Anger, chin up."
Anger did not even bother to react to Salem's encouragement.
"Now give us time and go wait outside, you can introduce yourselves later."
"Yes Mother," both machines replied, their voices giving off entirely different characteristics.
Now that she was alone, Salem knew there was no need for pleasantries or false imagery. She hadn't let a second slip by without considering Alia's next move. In her mind, there was truly no reason to believe the conflict was over.
"You look nice Ali," Salem coldly remarked as she watched her children guard the door outside. "Your maker knew what she was doing when she made you."
"I still don't know why she even created me," Ali sighed with a worried expression.
"I thought you'd say that. But can I even trust you? What's to say you aren't some slutty little spy waiting to suck out my soul and return it to her hm?"
To Salem's surprise, the doll had no clever response or means of evasion. She stood confused, likely stuck on the crude insult she had received. It was clear Ali knew little of verbal attacks and rebuttals.
"What does that mean?" Ali tilted her head with curiosity. "I have yet to come across that word in my books."
"Books? Hah, Valor reads those pesky things all the time," Salem laughed before placing a hand over her mouth.
She had planned to interrogate the doll, not make friends with her.
"So you're a stingy one as well," Salem continued. "Do you think for even a moment that I wouldn't be able to see through your lies? Playing the role of an innocent little girl used to be my ace in the hole I'll have you know. So! I'll spell it out since you'd like that. You're a perverted illusion used to seduce and betray. A trick shrouded in fake purity. How many have you slept with to serve your mistress? I will admit, you had me entranced for a moment. Your innocence seemed almost genuine."
"I'm not like that at all!" Ali pleaded.
"You lie!"
The doll tried her best to explain her innocence, only to swiftly lose her breath and fail altogether. She had seen Salem's expressions before back in the lounge and did not understand her newly hostile approach.
"Well?" Salem glared as she clutched the doll's arm.
"Dolls...cannot...lie," Ali wheezed as she fell to the ground. "I...cannot...lie."
"Says who?"
"It is how I am built. There were a set of rules upon my creation!"
Salem would have pressed on if not for the strange glimmer in Ali's eyes. It was in those purple gems that she witnessed the mirrored image of another girl lost in the tundra. Salem released her grip before inspecting her own pale hands.
"Instincts are so easily mistaken for rules. Perhaps I was made with restrictions as well," Salem muttered as she took the time to reflect on her brutish actions. "I suppose Alia had me sorted out after all. I do have a soft spot for fellow misfits and confused creations."
"You feel it too?" Ali whispered. "You are a doll?"
"Not a doll as far as I know, but I am made from...something," Salem sighed as she recalled her experience with those who worshipped her crimson eyes.
Picking herself off the ground, Ali began to carefully observe Salem. Within her mind, she was beginning to understand her new owner more clearly. It was as if Salem had suddenly transformed into another more relatable creature.
"You're…you're beautiful," Ali smiled. "Like my maker."
Salem glared with her crimson eyes, before realizing the meaning of the platonic compliment. She was just another doll in the eyes of others. Her perfect skin, figure, and shape all created the illusion of something not quite real. Perhaps, she thought, Ali was not as dense as she seemed.
"I'm better looking thank you very much."
"Your legs, how did you get them?" Ali continued.
"They were replacements. And to be honest, I happen to enjoy them. They resemble my children in a way, which is exactly why I prefer to keep them."
"You're children?"
"Yes, Anger and Valor. The knight with an orange glow is Valor. While Anger prefers to appear red. Their names are a bit rough I know, and they only partially live up to them. But I love them, even when the second tends to be a bit airheaded like you."
"How so?" Ali smiled as the conversation began to warm up.
"He's completely obsessed with being the perfect male, or a hero in some way."
"Who's their father?"
"Don't have one."
"Then how did you-"
"I made them...and not in that way silly."
"But then," Ali began to surmise the obvious. "You are like my maker, aren't you? You possess a flower. I've seen her use it before. She crafts life with it and empowers herself."
"Well now," Salem smiled as she put a finger on the doll's mouth. "You're actually quite intelligent, aren't you?"
"I just want to understand her better."
"Hah, that's not how women work silly," the red-eyed mother laughed as she backed up into the bedroom, removing pieces of her clothing all the while. "You can learn every secret in the world before you figure a girl out."
After swiftly undressing, Salem took a seat on the bed, a smug grin forming across her face. Ali couldn't help but stare at the exposed prosthetics that stuck closely to the woman's pale flesh. It was as if a deeper part of her soul was intrigued by the attachments and their possible meaning.
"So someone made you like this," Ali pondered.
Salem paused for a moment, before revealing the truth, "Yes."
"Are you loyal like me?" The doll asked with unusual passion in her tone.
"No, I never even met my maker. I like to assume I had parents. Sometimes I even see their outlines in my dreams."
"Do you have an owner then?"
"I had a couple in my life, not the good kind though. They well, only cared for my appearance."
"Of course, I understand. You must have been great at trying on clothes for magazines," Ali beamed as she remembered all the pictures Alia kept of female models.
"You're kidding me," Salem chuckled as she continued to observe the doll's rather comical innocence. "Sure little doll, that's definitely what I did in my youth."
"So ho-."
"No, my turn," Salem interrupted.
Pulling the doll by the hand, the red woman began to stare into her eyes for an uncomfortably long period of time.
"You despise the way you are treated and yet, you can't bring yourself to seek revenge right?" Salem guessed. "Instead you just hope and pray for a chance at life. I can respect that."
Ali stifled a tear as she looked down towards the ground. She remembered how much Alia hated to see her cry. But she could not deny the truth behind Salem's words.
But before Ali could make an excuse, Salem decided to give her that which she had longed for all her life. She provided a warm embrace to stop the tears.
"I know. Believe me, I know," Salem whispered as she felt the warm tears against her chest.
Comforting the doll in her arms, Salem's heart began to ache. What little remorse she had left in her heart had already begun to spiral out of control. She knew how the doll was much like herself, if not identical. All of a sudden, Alia's gift became clear. It was just as she said - Salem had to find herself. Ali was no doubt designed to draw out Salem's pity and sorrow, causing her to reflect more intently.
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The cold-hearted murderer failed to contain her own misery as her grip on Ali tightened. They stood there for quite some time in the silence of their own sadness. One was thankful to have a loving friend, while the other cursed the world for its unfair treatment. Ali cried to Salem, while Salem cried for Ali. But in the end, the cause of each girl's sorrow would prove to be radically different.
"Thank...you," Ali whispered.
Salem released her grip and stared into the doll's glossy eyes. She yearned to give thanks but found no courage for such a thing. For in her ashen heart, a burning hatred had grown toward the one responsible for the doll's suffering. Alia, the deranged monster, deserved death in the eyes of Salem. First, there was Cora, and now there was the sweet doll.
"Do you really care about your owner?" Salem asked.
"Y...yes."
"Would you do anything to protect her?"
"Yes."
"A noble cause," Salem replied with a yawn, her true intent now a closely guarded secret. "Although I can't say I understand the notion."
"Are you alright?" The doll pleaded as she noticed her friend's weakening health.
"Just a little sleepy. I don't get half as much as I should."
"Oh please, don't allow me to keep you awake."
As if assuming a different character the red woman began to squint her eyes and form a devilish gaze. She would take her time to fake a deep slumber, inviting the doll to sleep beside her. After a brief moment, Ali was genuinely fast asleep, a weakness of hers that had long persisted for some time.
What Salem didn't realize was that Ali was always designed to sleep. Her source of power was in fact not infinite, and needed time in dormancy in order to recharge. Tucking the doll into the silver sheets of the bed, Salem raised her head and faced the door.
"Children," she calmly whispered. "She is asleep."
"Mother?" Valor asked as he hastily entered the room.
Removing herself from the bed, Salem sprung into action as if her peaceful encounter simply never occurred.
"Valor listen very carefully. I need you to take Ali as far from this place as you can and do it discreetly. I don't care if she's asleep just take her where you need to. This is for her own safety."
"It will be done," the young machine replied.
"Anger, you're with me. I've found someone we need to remove."
Anger nodded toward his mother while Valor was given Ali's unconscious body. Salem had already surmised that the doll ran on sleep as a form of crude energy and made sure to keep her wrapped in a blanket. It all made logical sense to the mother, considering how perfect Ali was at imitating a real girl.
"Mother, how will you fight against your enemies?" Valor asked with great concern.
"The way we always have," Salem responded with a confident grin on her face. "Go by feel."
Just then, the air became blood-red as vile energy appeared around the woman. A long black spear materialized into her hand, surprising both children. A slight tap against the window shattered it into a million pieces, proving the might of the power she held.
"Out we go."
Salem was certain she was headed in the direction of her opponent, her heart beating once more as the red flower roared to life.
"Be careful Mother," Valor implored.
"Aren't I always?"
In a show of confidence and a bit of stupidity, Salem threw herself out the window with a graceful leap. Anger pursued without question, leaving his brother to handle the sleeping doll.
"Well now, guess I have my hands full," Valor chuckled. "Just like the books aye little doll?"
____________________________
Surprisingly, Salem was completely unharmed when she landed several floors below, as a gust of red energy broke her fall. Anger followed with a loud thump, his metallic body proving strong enough to avoid any damage. The pair had already reached the base of the odd-shaped building, its multitude of crystalline lights now fading into the clouds. As far as the Tella engineering was concerned, nothing was intended to venture so close to the base of the Strand. Once Salem reached the bottom, all the usual decorations of the building seemed to be replaced by nothing more than a large metal sheet stretching out as far as the eye could see.
"Whatever happened to walking," Salem complained as she nearly slipped on the barren floor of the Strand's exterior.
It would appear all aesthetic effort had been placed into the sky-scraping vistas of Lacuna, and not the base. But Salem was not confused by the lost path. She could still feel the presence of her opponent and began to look deep beneath the station.
"Are you certain your path leads that way," Anger pointed downwards as he scanned the neon-lit horizon of the city.
"Oh I'm certain," Salem replied. "She's not hiding."
It wasn't long before Salem located a small tear in the ground, its opening emanating a faint purple light. The rather crudely shaped hole proved to be more like a descending staircase that expanded in size with every inch, its route no doubt designed by Alia herself. Without any fear, Salem then stepped into the pit. She knew what had to be done that night.
"It's time Alia," Salem's crimson eyes glowed with malice.
"You cannot trust yourself so easily," Anger interrupted with an irritated voice as he followed Salem down the spiraling cave. "That doll was designed to play you like a toy. You are walking into a trap."
"Do you really think I have another choice?" Salem scoffed. "I've spent my whole life running about like a headless chicken. I won't pass up this chance to truly do something with my life. Not for anything."
"I know," Anger replied with unusual haste. "But that should not justify your rash actions. She cannot possibly be weak."
"Don't pretend you hate a good fight. We are more alike than you think," Salem smiled while looking back at her child. "Say didn't you get to use that new toy Korus gave you?"
Not allowing himself to be distracted, Anger shook his head at Salem. He knew she could never hope to manipulate him in any way. In fact, Anger was certain his mother lacked even the smallest bit of knowledge regarding his true feelings.
"It is a fine gift," Anger lied while gesturing towards the newly forged mace Korus had given him. "I did not use it in the arena with your other creation. But now I may just have the chance."
Thanks to Ina's generosity, Anger had been outfitted with a more modern Valekry arsenal, complete with a long spiked mace alongside several ranged weapons holstered at his sides. At any moment Salem's child was ready to fight with the combined might of a small army. And given the nature of his new enemy, Anger would not have himself any less prepared.
"Well that's good to hear," Salem clapped her pale hands together.
"I do wish you had brought more protection yourself," Anger sighed.
"Whatever do you mean? My dress is cute."
"Half your body is exposed, and what little does cover you is no more than a sheet of paper."
"Well you just don't understand girls," Salem pouted before hurrying along the path.
Having reached the end of their path, Salem and Anger soon found themselves standing before the most peculiar scene. Deep below the Strand Alia had apparently set up a playground of sorts filled with strange metal objects and childish decorum. All around the chamber loomed tall silver trees, their various branches containing lights of purple and red.
"Just when I thought I understood her," Salem placed a palm against her head.
Just then, a rotten stench consumed the air, its foul odor reminiscent of long-dead corpses. But due to her experience in Glacia, Salem appeared rather unphased. She had encountered more than enough horrible sights and soon stepped forwards toward Alia with great confidence.
"There you are."
Looking up towards the ceiling of the cave, Salem eyed a silver pedestal that held an ever stranger scene. There was an innocent picnic set up on the metal stage, with chairs and tables filled with snacks. Upon one of many seats, sat Alia, who was once again absorbed in her work. Her dark skin seemed more exposed, as if in direct contrast to the conserved doll. It was then clear to Salem that Alia had somehow grown even more deranged, her calm and calculated demeanor replaced with that of a deranged child.
Alia's left hand appeared to grasp a white sheep, while the other clutched a pink pig. Both plushies were surprisingly adorable, as each bore a black threaded smile below the nose. After discovering which one she believed to be the cutest, Alia then proceeded to hug the stuffed pig, before tearing the sheep in half.
"What in the heavens are you doing?" Salem yelled towards Alia with genuine concern.
"Oh…just playing with my friends. This one is named Wilbur," Alia responded in a half-awake voice as she pointed to the pig.
"You're friends huh."
"Yep. These over here are Nestor, Lestor, Hector, and Mitzi. They are all smart little creatures," the dark-skinned girl giggled as she pointed toward their remains. "Oh, and speaking of smart, I know why you're here."
"Do you now," Salem grumbled as she tried to ignore the morbid scene.
"Oh...I know more than you think," Alia smiled as her tone began to shift.
Dropping the animals, Alia rose from the child-sized chair and tilted her head in an unnerving fashion. The girl Salem had met before was gone. Something else now spoke through her mouth with an eerily confident voice.
"Like what?" Salem taunted.
"I know…who you are...and what you are."
Salem began to doubt her ability to withhold anything from the black serpent. At first, Alia had only discovered the more transparent facts. But now her deeper understanding of Salem became a more notable threat.
"Hit me then," Salem frowned. "Tell me what you know."
"No, I don't think I will. At least not like this, it's far too enjoyable watching you waddle about like an idiot," Alia smiled.
"Oh so now you won't speak in riddles and half-truths? What happened to your so-called wit?"
"Not in the mood for it. I've had enough dense girls for one cycle."
Salem rolled her eyes as her patience began to wear thin. She couldn't tell if this new creature was stalling, or merely savoring her victory. Either way, the conflict between the two girls was inevitable.
"If you're oh so knowledgeable about me then you know why I'm here," Salem groaned.
"Oh yes, here to fulfill your inner purpose?"
A cruel smirk came across Salem's face as she pointed her spear toward Alia. The edge of her weapon had been carefully imagined with black steel and crimson jewels, with one red diamond painted across the pole. She seemed to care greatly for the art of violence, and would never again kill without style.
"At least I have one," Salem taunted as she admired herself.
"Oh…you're not the only one with a cute trinket. It never was my favorite tool."
"So what, you do have another little flower? Just like mine?"
"No," Alia sighed as if bored by the concept of powerful entities. "You have your rage, your beautiful red vengeance. Such an old, yet unmistakable power. That stupid princess has her love, persevering and naive. But I…have my insane little girl," She continued as she pointed toward herself.
"How could mindlessness give you anything?"
"Insanity is a tool, just like your malice," Alia whispered as her head tilted further to the left. "But they're all a means to an end. Purple and red. White and black. You'll see your own strings once you've fallen to your power."
Salem knew there was merit in the warnings she heard. The strange woman was laughing at her, exposing the solution knowing full well there was no escape. Her truth was nothing more than a condemnation.
"Isn't it funny? How people always try to help you? To save you? Like that idiot doll. Yet little does she know, your infliction defines you. There is no Salem without all the misery, nothing to love if life was perfect," Alia laughed. "It's all so entertaining."
Salem looked around to find her surroundings were beginning to shift. The metal park had turned into a rotten sludge that flowed toward the middle of the cave, leaving strange markings and face-shaped roots in their wake. Additionally, Alia's little stage had begun to sink into an uglier pedestal of untamed chaos. There was an unmistakable tension in the air as a new power surfaced from the depths.
Her insanity reaching its peak, Alia began to laugh. Slowly, but surely, her tantrum transformed into a maniacal scream as the entire room became filled with the sound of her pain. The air, her eyes, and the supernatural glyphs appearing before her were all the color of insanity. As the magical chant intensified, her voice became distorted and intangible. A mound of black corpses enveloped the girl's back, forming a stem that connected to the ceiling. She became attached to her playground like a flower in the garden.
Salem found herself clutching her ears as the morbid ritual began to enter her mind. But after a sudden pause, Alia's voice became softer and more feminine. All of a sudden her song had transformed into something beautiful.
"Ugh," the red mother collapsed, her child breaking her fall with his powerful arms. "What is she doing?"
Salem looked up in shock as a second figure emerged. While she was distracted by the painful song, it would appear Alia had grown a twin. The second girl was pale and faceless, with long white hair and a beautiful figure. She had been created from Alia's back, standing upside down on the ceiling like an angel. The pale figure descended slowly as she continued to sing with Alia in a language Salem could not understand; and yet, she could almost decipher the lyrics to mean something oddly sorrowful.
Salem turned to face Anger, only to find him gone. The song had evidently transferred her into a different world where she could not be helped. Her child had remained in reality, now surrounded by a new enemy who had waited patiently in the shadows.
"I told you," Anger sighed as he brandished his mace, facing a horde of glowing red eyes that appeared suddenly from the corners of the chamber.
The metallic scene was still intact within the real world, with an eerie silence now enveloping the room. But while Salem began to panic internally, Anger remained calm and calculated. He knew there was nothing to be done but fight and pray. Both Anger and his new enemy weren't like the girls who argued and screamed. They were silent in their mission.
Creeping up from the shadows, a small army of tall lanky machines revealed themselves, their faces decorated with ghoulish masks. They were called Vornex and had become the product of Alia's hard work during her time with the doll. Like Anger, they were determined and stoic, pointing their long claws toward him with malicious intent.
Back in the nightmare, Alia calmly unpinned a steel comb attached to her hair and brandished the trinket as if it were a weapon. Soon enough, a silver blade appeared from deep within the comb in an impossible way. A purple vine ran through the curved sword with a brilliant light and soon faded as the transformation was complete. Alia smiled at her family heirloom one last time before pointing it toward Salem.
"Let the show begin," she whispered.
An ear-shattering boom reverbed throughout the room. The sound of various mechanical gadgets followed suit in rhythm, almost like a music box was coming alive. Salem was horribly confused and staggered by the scene. She was in a twisted concert of sorts made by an enemy who enjoyed herself far too much.
Alia stared at Salem with a sinister grin as she kicked aside her chair. Her music had granted her unrivaled strength with which she could bend the stars. But she was not interested in a swift victory. In fact, she was never interested in an easy win at all. Lifting her hands towards the sky, Alia began to disperse her power around the room, as a chorus of a thousand invisible souls chanted at the stars.
Salem was knocked back by the wave of energy, expecting herself to be flattened with ease. But instead, she was empowered with surging energy so intense it burned her skin. She nearly screamed from the pain before unleashing a wave of red energy. The room was filled with a strange mix of organic song and mechanical energy. It was the perfect set piece for Alia, who tore herself from her grotesque wire and jumped down from the stage to face Salem.
"Ah!" Salem gasped she became enveloped by the song, her red flower feeling as if it would burst out of her chest at any moment.
Signaling the encore of the song, Alia's pale counterpart raised both hands in the air, summoning a horde of black limbs around the arena. The animated corpses did not come to fight Salem but instead waved their arms in the air like a pleased audience. Finally accepting the absurdity of her situation, Salem raised her spear towards Alia with a shaky arm.
"Fine then. Let's do it."
But before Salem could plan her attack, Alia appeared before her with blinding speed, unleashing a volley of attacks that could be barely countered. Suffering a cut across the face, Salem tossed her spear toward Alia before forming another. In a show of strength and insanity, Alia allowed the spear to enter her chest, before calmly removing it and tossing it aside like trash. She would continue her assault on Salem, occasionally backing off to sing along to the rhythm of her morbid concert. Her style of combat was graceful and feminine, while Salem preferred to guess wildly and allow her instincts to do all the thinking.
It was clear Alia had fought with the blade before, perhaps in a time before she had become so lost. But as her song intensified, she began to lose control and enter a state of rage. She appeared behind Salem with what appeared to be teleportation, before snapping her own beloved blade in half and sticking the pointy end through her opponent's back. Salem was surprised to hardly feel the attack, her newfound power providing all the pain she could possibly sense.
"Show me," Alia whispered in an unusually deep voice that echoed throughout the room. "Who you."
"Stop it!" Salem cursed as she tossed aside her own blade and grabbed onto Alia with her burning hands.
"Really are," Alia finished as she clawed at Salem's face with a wicked smile.
Salem screamed as an aura of tiny red diamonds surrounded her body. Using a power she did not understand, she dug her nails into Alia and flung her across the room, shattering a pillar in the process. Forming a spear in her hand, Salem scraped the bladed end into the ground before kicking up a dozen shards of energy, hurling them toward where she believed Alia to be. But instead of finding her target, Salem was struck from behind by a pale beam originating from the stage. She looked up to the ceiling to see several white arms with outstretched palms. Before she could suffer another attack, Salem released the burning energy from her body and reached out to the pale hands, motioning them in her direction. With an invisible grasp, she tore the ceiling apart, revealing a starry sky above.
Alia's pale double effortlessly brushed the rouble aside, before singing in Salem's direction. The red mother once again expected an attack, only to be blessed with another wave of painful energy. She nearly begged the faceless figure to stop as the overflowing energy continued to burn her flesh.
Taking advantage of her opponent's agony, Alia reappeared with unphased confidence and quickly dug her nails into Salem's neck. But instead of tearing the girl's head right off, she paused for a moment to relay a message. For but a second, Alia's old voice returned to her with a weakened gasp.
"Please. Kill me," the dark-skinned girl whispered as tears welled up in her eyes.