An ageless moon in the night, an object reflecting the presence of one. Many fleeing devils in the dusk, some rising to the challenge. Horror around every corner, echoing screams in the terror.
The voice of one in their minds, fear eternally in their souls. Inside the crystal dimension, the young woman calmly ascending the long stairs. Reviver and Rebellion lending her their power, her companions following behind.
Walking down her dark path, a slim light of hope leading towards her past. An old friend wishing to sever her tragic chains, a wrong from his yore eternally gripping at him.
Someone needing him, his action directing to her despair. Remembering the weight of her grief, that feeling never going away. The demon stepping onto the second platform, her vision on Indra.
That Magi floating at the center, his gaze first to the maiden, soon shifting it to Valor. A companion constantly at her side, one diving into the deepest abyss many times.
No matter of her great sins, this old friend forever reaching out to her. That devil suspiciously observing the area, Bethlehem nowhere in sight. Her vision shortly on the enemy ahead, folding her arms.
Carefully thinking on the possible play, three deities in this place. Only one at the moment, this definite trap. Countless years in the past, one from the deepest abyss damning the worlds. A soul originally free, her binding despair.
Seeking after her light, her feverish resolve. Esther and Anya's unease, their eyes on the lone Magi. That cautious enemy, their awareness on the maiden's coming awakening over the years.
"You know, I may not be much of a leader material and all, but I still remain the ruler of Asgard. Your actions will be severely punished." Valor folding his arms.
Events long ago, the young woman bringing Asgard to its knees. The once supreme deity taking over, someone never liking the position. An individual moving further away from his goal, silently waiting for his companion's return.
Giving her a home, his knowledge on her displeasure for the place. Doing his best, realizing his small hands. Carrying his agony within, reliving the previous occurrences. Indra chuckling, soon raising his hood.
Revealing his short brown hair, those violet eyes. A dark sigil on the side of his face, that foe expanding his arms towards the god, everyone confusingly looking at him.
"Valor, you are not a leader—"
Pointing at the maiden, his stern eyes on the deity. An old friend constantly doing his best for her, someone seeking to give back her happiest days.
Memories from the past, these steadily surfacing emotions. Two companions over the years, their souls yearning to truly break free. An unbreakable bond between them, those blissful times slowly approaching reality again.
A trial to the once supreme god's mind, his hand extending to his friend in the abyss. Screaming out to her, trying to reach her.
"—you have long forsaken that role. Your devotion to that woman, it led to the pitiful state Asgard fell into." Indra slightly scowling in anger.
Neglect over the years, a deity allowing the passing events. Someone keeping watch, awaiting the return of one. Great sins from the Heavenly Realm, those high above at the center of her despair.
A chain linking to the oldest days, these branding sentiments. Anger never leaving him, his heart continuously following the guidance from one within the depths of darkness.
Esther and Anya's vision on Valor, thinking on the message. His home falling into ruin, yet a person choosing his old friend.
"He chose her over countless..." Esther's hand to her chest.
The young woman slightly looking away, these deep emotions inside of her. One eternally walking in the farthest despair, her companion constantly following her no matter the distance.
A strong bond between two, that maiden's role in Asgard's continuous deterioration. An individual damning the realms long ago, her influence still there. A heart yearning to be away from the battlefield, to live her joyful days again.
Agony clawing away at her soul, her companion always there. Valor pointing his thumb to himself, immediately stepping forward.
"Fine. Bring your hatred towards me, but leave her out of this, I still got a promise to keep. Even if Asgard is no more, I will make true to it, I owe her that much." Swinging out his arm.
"Even if Asgard is no more..." The Queen looking away.
A promise a thousand years ago, that deity holding true to it. A night long ago, that event forever with him. A way to sever the tragic chains, someone preparing for a certain time.
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Remaining at the side of his companion, knowing the truth about the past. Waiting for this moment, bringing her many surprises, taking her on countless adventures.
Anya's eyes to the Magi, the god becoming more angry. A deep history between two, one walking in sorrow, the other following her.
"No, it is clear that the hatred is directed towards me—" Cyra walking a few steps forward, soon standing on her side.
Desires far inside of her, a heart pursuing what is within. Her steadily surfacing will, one opposing the reason of others. Her actions from the past, those slowly clearing memories.
These feelings engraving into her, her building hatred. A devil continuously pushing forward, opening new possibilities. Directing her sword at Indra, her icy glare penetrating him.
"—Indra, God of Fire, Bringer of Warmth, it is time you learn what happens when my fangs are out." Her sharp voice.
Her secreting malevolence, that greatly burning energy from her body. Divinity wrapping around it, both working together against the threat. Someone born underneath the light of the crimson moon, her curse since her birth.
A fate forever following her, a person constantly fighting against it. One from the shadows steadily rising once more, her never leaving painful past.
No matter the morrow, even if it is a sorrowful one. An individual eternally opposing, constantly grabbing hold of the smallest chance, turning it into a reality. Deep agony on her body, hatred driving her onward.
"Iconoclast, your existence have plagued the worlds for countless years. Wherever you go, ruin comes, that is the fate you carry. And as such, your demise will free us." Indra folding his arms.
"Then I will trample on that fate as well. I decide my own life, my own future. And as such, I will crush anyone in my way towards my deepest desire. Now come, I will have you begging at my feet." Her chilling tone.
An individual born long ago, the moon turning crimson. An existence from two, a curse on the worlds. Carrying this burden, learning about it years later. Refusing to remain silent, clashing against her enemies.
Opposing their reason, sounding her soul. The young woman dashing onward, Valor at her side. Indra shifting his attention to Anya, seeing the princess ascending into the air. The Queen rushing forward, assisting from the rear.
Indra closing his stance, revealing his massive red blade. Seeing the maiden in front of him, immediately blocking the vertical assault. Instantly turning his gaze, witnessing the once supreme god racing around his defense.
Two old friends in sync, their movements constantly supporting one another. The Magi motioning his offhand, extending a fiery barrier.
Defending from the deity's attack, this heavy impact, shaking the area from the collision. An icy mist thickly escaping from Valor, enveloping the surroundings.
The Magi's eyes to the maiden, her calm vision on him. One embracing her imperfections and selfish desires, becoming corruption itself. Someone racing along her dark path, following a slim light.
Reaching for what is within, holding onto the smallest chance, a person wishing to return to her time of most pleasure. The demon pulling back, immediately dashing away.
That Elven descending, her mighty talons in view. Her enemy locking onto her, the princess colliding into him. Piercing into the field, a massive inferno tearing through.
Valor and Esther rushing away, their sharp gaze. These simple sentiments, a few meeting in one place. Their willingness to proceed, hearts uniting with each other.
Flying high, Anya narrowly curving, avoiding an attack. The floating Magi, his attention on his enemies. A bunch of misfits, yet their concerning capabilities.
A princess and Queen, one providing cover from above, another assaulting from the rear. On another end, two old friends constantly protecting each other.
A near impossibility to reach the maiden, that deity continuously standing in the way. Two companions defending one another, creating an almost impenetrable wall together.
A never dying bond, this problematic duo. Indra's eyes shortly on a space distorting behind the devil, a plan steadily coming into play.
Facing his attention to the once supreme god, directing his blade onward. A suspicious action, that deity carefully assessing the situation.
Trailing his vision, his shortly widening eyes. Immediately turning his gaze to the young woman, seeing the rift forming into a physical form. The Queen and princess' confusion, their direction soon towards the maiden.
"Valkyrie! Behind you!" Esther alerting.
"I know." Her calm voice.
Her awareness on their presence, a massive scythe revealing high. Swinging out of the void, the hastily approaching weapon, her enemy's crushing pressure. Instantly deflecting the assault with Reviver, her direction to her foe.
One from the farthest abyss steadily taking her stance once again, driving fear into countless. Her deep emotions, racing after her slim light.
"Selfish you are, never stopping, always going further." Bethlehem materializing.
"You are right, I am selfish. And I will keep proceeding, until I grasp my deepest desire." Her sharp gaze on him.
A never relenting heart, someone continuously persisting. Her flowing emotions, these powerful sentiments within her. Putting away her staff, extending her right arm.
Malice burning from it, tearing away at her body. Her deep hatred, an individual despising the battlefield. Deciding on her path, proceeding as herself. A whirlpool of madness, this devil slowly revealing each passing hour.
Bethlehem steadily floating back, unease from him. His eyes on her massively morphing arm, watching it expand into a shadowy claw of a dragon. Motioning her talon afar, her pulsing veins, the magnification of her feelings.
"A cursed offspring from one of the land and another beyond the heavens, one who brought us ruin." Bethlehem shaking his head in disgust.
"It was the gods who foretold their demise, my birth had nothing to do with it. My parents sought a simple life, and it was Odin who turned everything upside down." Her calm voice, facing Indra.
Fragments to her attention, some of her returning past. Her weakening seal, these boiling sentiments within her. Her hand to her chest, feeling her parent's presence.
An individual born from two from different worlds, creating new possibilities. Locking onto her target, bursting through the field. Passing her old friend, the person aware on her plan.
Shifting his attention to Bethlehem, urging the rest to focus on them. The young woman's claw colliding into Indra's blade, her impact shaking his body.
Both slightly pulling away, immediately vanishing. Their extreme speed, intensely clashing throughout the arena. Their great resolves, forcing against the reason of the other.
The once supreme deity vertically connecting a strike into his target's scythe, that Queen breathing harsh fire. Valor leaping out of the way, this scorching heat enveloping the foe.
Hearts in one place, their determination to press onward. Anya descending from above, piercing into the attack. The Magi's growing anger, his concentrating icy aura.