The Vanquisher sliced down, tearing down the very layer between dimensions.
Wherever its power touched, the evil melted away like wax touched by a hot coal.
These trivialities did not matter to the vanquisher at all. It continued on its path, with only a singular purpose. Vanquish everything that dares meet its edge.
The shadow form was cut.
The shadow vanished, screaming, smoking and sputtering.
Her body condensed inside the realm of shadow and light, in the realm of boundaries, shining with color.
She could feel her head hurting, the memories from countless people flooding into her brain at the same time.
Xena screamed.
A headache unlike she has ever faced descended on her.
When she woke, it was still day.
She collapsed on the floor of the water tower, the blue hilt of a water blade still in her hands. She reformed the sword out of involuntary reaction.
