The battle had completely flipped. The once lofty Aritzia was continuously beaten back, her First Brother lording over her with a majesty that completely overshadowed her own light.
Dyon's scythe was like an unceasing wind, violently leaving traces of sharp black light in the air.
In the skies, a singular eye lorded over all, bearing down on Aritzia. It could see through her completely. Her every thought, her every intent, her every emotion.
For the first time, Aritzia felt as though she was laid bare before another. As the wounds continued to accumulate across her once flawless body, a sharp bitterness invaded her heart.
She was Aritzia Sapientia. The first True Empath. A woman who stood at the top of the world. But somehow, she had become the punching bag of someone she thought had already fallen from his pedestal. How could she not feel bitter?
