"You bitch—!"
The idol struggled beneath Svalinn, her remaining arm bracing against its weight as she fought to push it off. Her muscles trembled from the strain, spasming from the shock of her severed limb. She clawed at the shield, fingers slipping against its surface, her breath coming in ragged bursts.
Seraniti took a step forward, ready to finish it—until a sudden wave of heat slammed into the ground where the idol lay pinned.
She stopped, flicking her wrist to pull Svalinn back as fire engulfed the woman.
A high-pitched scream tore through the battlefield.
"GYYYAAAAAGHHH!! IT HURTS—AAAAGHHH!!"
The idol's body convulsed violently, her remaining hand clawing at the air as flesh blackened and split apart. The structure of her bones only made it worse, trapping heat inside, cooking her from within as she writhed. Her organs fought against the firestorm, unable to keep up with the damage being done to them. The agony was unmistakable, her voice ragged with desperation.
Seraniti exhaled sharply, the heat curling against her skin, sweat tracing the back of her neck.
That was almost me.
The stench of burning flesh and vaporized blood filled the air, thick and suffocating. The embers beneath the idol's twitching form glowed faintly, heat radiating outward in waves that distorted the area around her.
Seraniti pushed the thought aside, her focus shifting to the remaining three casters and the defender. The latter still struggled to rise, his movements sluggish, uncoordinated. Without hesitation, she flicked her wrist.
The cannons' apparatuses spun faster, their glow intensifying before both fired.
Two Lavoisier rounds tore through the battlefield, their impact sending concussive waves outward. The moment the projectiles left the chamber, the cannons tilted downward, hissing as they entered their cooling cycle, reloading in preparation for the next barrage.
Seraniti didn't wait.
She grabbed Svalinn by its handle, lifting it in a sharp motion before hurling it into the air. As it ascended, she shifted her stance before snapping her palm toward the remaining enemies.
Before Svalinn could begin to fall, her MICA chimed as a sequence formed.
She formed a two-finger knife and unleashed—Flame Slash. The arc of fire cut through the battlefield in an instant, slamming into the defender before he could react who laid on the ground.
There was no time to scream.
The blade of fire struck cleanly, slicing him from head to toe, splitting him apart as he was no more, still smoldering from the heat.
Before the remaining caster's could move, Svalinn followed, slamming down in between two casters just as they threw up a multi-layered screen.
The moment they connected, the air was filled with the sharp, grating screech of two forces clashing, locked in a brutal contest of strength. Sparks flared against the multi-layered screen as Svalinn bore down on it, the impact sending violent ripples through the barrier's structure. The energy flared, buckling under the assault but refusing to shatter completely.
Seraniti narrowed her eyes, fingers twitching slightly before she flicked her wrist. Tch! With a sharp pull, Svalinn wrenched itself free, gliding back to her side.
Where's the last one? Huh—?
The realization hit a second too late.
Her instincts screamed at her to move, but by the time she turned, the last caster was already mid-cast. Their palm was raised, a flickering glow forming across its surface as they lifted their staff and slammed it against the ground. The pulse surged outward—
Seraniti barely had time to brace.
"Fu—!"
A concussive force struck her dead center, slamming into her torso with enough strength to launch her backward. The air ripped past her ears as she was hurled off her feet, her body weightless for a split second before she crashed through a window.
Glass shattered around her, the sharp edges slicing through the air as her body plowed through the frame.
She hit the ground hard.
The impact rattled through her bones as she landed flat on her back, the force knocking the wind from her lungs. Her chest heaved, but no breath came, her diaphragm spasming as she struggled to take in air.
"Ah—damn caster!"
Her voice was strained, barely above a wheeze. The shock lingered in her ribs, her lungs still refusing to cooperate as she fought through the burning sensation.
Then—
A jar fell from a nearby shelf, tumbling through the air before it cracked against her skull.
The ceramic shattered instantly, scattering its contents across her face as dizziness swept over her. The world tilted, her vision blurring for a moment longer than she would've liked.
Her MICA chimed.
A flicker of light spread across her vision, and suddenly everything shifted to black and white.
Her head snapped to the side, her perception sharpening despite the disorientation. Through the monochrome haze, she caught sight of movement—one of the casters, their body jerking violently as a blade tore through their arm, severing it just below the shoulder.
A heartbeat later, their head followed.
Her vision snapped back to normal, the monochrome haze fading as the rush of color and movement flooded her senses. She pushed herself up, ignoring the lingering sting of impact, and sprinted toward the same window she had been launched through. The cold night air whipped against her face as she raised both arms to shield herself before throwing her body forward.
Glass cracked under her weight as she crashed through the window, the shards biting into her sleeves and slicing against her skin as she landed.
Ow. Cut myself.
The thought barely registered before she refocused.
Zora was locked in combat with one of the casters, her movements fluid, relentless. With a flick of her wrist, she slashed Mŕtvy through the air, the screeching grind of metal against metal splitting through the battlefield. The noise sent a sharp pulse through Seraniti's ears, disorienting her for a split second.
Then five copies of the blade materialized behind Zora, hovering in a perfect arc before launching themselves straight toward her opponent.
Seraniti shifted her focus.
The final caster was scrambling up the side of a short building, gripping onto the uneven surface with a desperation that made their movements erratic. Their boots scraped against the worn concrete as they pushed off the wall, using it as leverage to propel themselves onto the rooftop.
Seraniti didn't wait.
With a wave of her hand, the cannons' apparatuses spun up, the familiar hum charging the air as her weapons locked onto the target.
The first Lavoisier round screamed through the street, missing its mark just barely, whizzing past as the caster twisted mid-air.
The second round slammed into the building's ledge, striking just beneath them. The explosion was instant—shockwaves tearing through the structure as the caster lost their footing. Their body was thrown backward, limbs flailing before they hit the rooftop hard, sliding across the surface before coming to a halt.
The apparatuses slowed down, ther glow from its launch dimming as the cannons repositioned themselves at her side.
Svalinn drifted toward her, its weight familiar, steady. She reached out, fingers curling around the handle before launching it into the air once more. It shot upward, twisting mid-flight as it reached its peak.
She didn't waste the opportunity.
Breaking into a jog, she closed the distance to the next building, her boots slamming against the pavement before she leaped, gripping onto the rough edge of the adjacent structure.
Her arms burned from the strain, the weight of her body making the climb harder than she liked. She adjusted, kicking off the wall to pull herself higher—
Then her boot slipped.
Her grip faltered for a split second before her fingers tightened again, muscles straining to keep her from dropping.
I think I should practice more!
With a sharp exhale, she pulled herself up, swinging one leg over the ledge before rolling onto the rooftop. The second she landed, she barely had time to register movement as the caster was already waiting, staff pointed directly at her. Her cannon's almost being hit by the flames.
Oh s—!
She ducked instantly, dropping low as a pillar of flame erupted from the caster's staff, roaring past where her head had been just moments ago. The fire screamed over her, searing the air, before crashing into the side of a nearby building.
The heat left a sharp sting against her cheek, laying on the ground, she then snapped her fingers.
Svalinn plummeted toward the caster, its descent accelerating as its weight increased. The air around it hummed from the pressure as it neared its target, a direct path meant to end this fight immediately.
At the last second, the caster jumped backward, barely avoiding the impact as Svalinn crashed into the rooftop. The force of the impact sent a violent tremor through the structure, a deep crack splitting outward from where Svalinn impaled itself. Dust and fractured material burst into the air, leaving a jagged crater where it struck.
Seraniti huffed in annoyance, barely sparing the damage a glance before she pushed off the ground, using both hands to launch herself forward.
She slammed into the caster before he could fully recover, her weight crashing into him like a battering ram. The two tumbled across the rooftop in a messy collision of limbs and momentum before the caster's back slammed into the ledge.
His body buckled slightly from the force, his breath escaping in a harsh, strangled gasp.
"Damn nobody! Who do you think you are?!"
His voice was laced with frustration, pain, and something else—desperation.
Before Seraniti could fire back a response, his foot snapped up, kicking her squarely in the stomach.
The impact forced her back, her boots scraping against the rough surface as she barely kept herself from falling outright. Her balance steadied, but a sharp metallic tang filled her mouth. She lifted a hand to her lips, wiping at the small trickle of blood before flashing a mocking grin.
"You're one to talk, puto. Lost your friends too, huh? Heh."
Her words landed like a slap, and she saw the way his eyes darkened, frustration twisting his face. He pushed himself off the ledge, shoving away the pain as he charged at her with renewed aggression.
He moved quickly, ducking low before snapping his fist forward in a precise liver shot, aiming to cripple her with the blow.
Seraniti saw it coming.
With a sharp pivot, she redirected the attack, slapping his wrist outward before stepping into him, letting his own momentum betray him. The second he lost his balance, she yanked him closer, her grip firm and unforgiving.
Then—
Her palm struck his jaw, the impact sharp and direct. The caster's head snapped back, his body jolting from the force as he staggered.
Seraniti didn't give him a chance to recover. She closed the distance, seizing the back of his head in a brutal grip before slamming his face into her knee—once, twice. Each impact sent a wet crunch reverberating through the rooftop, his body convulsing under the sheer force. His muffled groan barely escaped before he went limp, his legs shaking as he struggled to stay upright.
"Fucking amateurs."
She exhaled sharply, shaking out the tension in her shoulders as she finally took a good look at him. He was young—probably a few years younger than her. His wide, dazed eyes flickered with pain, confusion, and just the faintest hint of pleading.
Seraniti sighed before grabbing his face, tilting his head upward while lowering her own. Their gazes locked—her tired, indifferent stare meeting his half-conscious, bewildered expression.
"Tough luck, I guess."
She smiled—innocent, almost sweet—before dragging him toward the ledge with zero hesitation.
His body was too weak to fight back, too dazed to process what was happening until it was too late.
"WAIT—!"
He didn't get to finish.
She threw him off the roof without a second thought, watching as his body plummeted through the air before it hit the ground below with a sickening crack. His neck snapped instantly upon impact, his limbs twisting unnaturally as blood pooled beneath him. His previous wounds leaked freely, his lifeless form nothing more than another corpse among the many that had fallen tonight.
Seraniti stared at his body, her expression unreadable. No remorse. No pity. Just a lingering disappointment—not in what she had done, but in the lack of entertainment.
"Sigh. I didn't even get to use U52 at all."
Her fingers twitched, the thought of wasted effort weighed more than the blood on her knuckles.
A slight movement caught her attention. Down the street, Zora was rifling through the dead caster's belongings, shifting through their belonging with her usual ease. When she noticed Seraniti watching, she grinned, lifting her findings into the air—a few liters of some drink and a handful of bites for the journey.
Seraniti scoffed, shaking her head before stepping up to the ledge. Without another word, she tilted forward and dropped, letting herself fall off the roof.
Her boots hit the ground with a dull thud, dust rising in a thick cloud around her. The impact barely phased her, her body absorbing the shock with practiced ease as her cannons descended behind her, following suit. With a flick of her wrist, Svalinn shifted, floating back into position at her side.
Her gaze swept across the battlefield, taking in the damage they had caused.
The ruined buildings. The smoldering wreckage. The bodies strewn across the street like discarded trash.
A painful twinge laced through her chest—not guilt, not regret. Just the faintest irritation at the inevitable consequence of all this.
Her expression twisted in horror as realization dawned.
"FUCK! I don't want to pay for this! Sob..."
She ran a hand down her face, already dreading the conversation she'd be forced to have when someone inevitably asked her who was going to foot the repair bill.