【Freeform Spar】Pinnacle ~ Heavenly Duel

Ornate structures of cold steel, polished stone and rising concrete wove harmoniously through the Dharmastian capital, the magically and technologically advanced citadel of Antica, into a chiasma of equilibrium. The surface of the wavering crystalline water reflected the heavenly canvas, painted on that particular Sigilsday as an atmospheric struggle between light and darkness, myriad hues of blues and reds streaking across the sky. Voluminous bridges with archways of stone and glowing crystals were stationed in the four cardinal directions, leading to the land surrounding Lake Memory. They converged into the base of the towering structure; fountains of the finest rock carved into statues of mythical marine creatures--the Lapriconea--stationed around an inaccessible lower level, their serpentine essence melded with the very art of their distinct poses. The entrance of the tower, a majestic opening which was, in reality, a complex of exquisite arches of stone bordered with metal entrancing the viewer--particularly any viewer--to look further into their intricate patterns.

The Spire--a symbol of the Dharmastian power dictated by the High Council, a gargantuan tower attempting to pierce the firmament. Spanning dozens of levels, the behemoth building made entirely by man narrowed infinitesimally until reaching the apex, which was a perfectly circular summit with a diameter of approximately twenty five meters. Bordered by elaborate crenelations which were more of an aesthetic feature than anything else, the world below could be watched. From one horizon concealing the final rays of the orange sun, bathing it in its dying glory; to the opposite, the minuscule lights of Dharmastia like stars hung in the implacable void of space. The battle of light and darkness persisted in a wondrous spectacle someone watched from above all Antica.

Her soft features were caressed by a slight passing breeze and the perishing sun alike, leaning forward and onto the edge of The Spire, crossed arms resting on the smooth stone of a singular battlement. Short strands of hair hung--a beautiful, vivid fuchsia hued amber by the setting flare--soft purple stare travelling far into the diminishing boundary between day and night. Twin innocent stars colored in a serene spectrum of white, green and cyan were tied together into a petite ponytail. Her disarming frame stood still, as she found herself staring into the horizon of civilization. An impeccable white dress which elegantly took color of the sunset was her choice of clothing for this special occasion. A fine black thread featuring a minuscule shard of amethyst hung from her neck while a bracelet displaying pearls of equally the same acquired shade of her pendant rested on her right wrist.

Between radiance and shades, she awaited.

At the top of the world, she awaited.

Grazing the starry sky, she awaited.

In the pinnacle, instants passed, for a heavenly duel was bound to occur.​

Pinnacle ~ Heavenly Duel​

 

"Watching humanity." Eternity's silence was broken as the figure culminated its ascend to the summit of the mammoth obelisk--Mana's disturbance on the solemn, heavenly atmosphere confirming destiny had indeed chosen to remain intact. Her voice was delicate, but imprinted within a firm tone devoid of doubt, surprise or even fear. Her angelic figure turned, gaze trailing the heavens assaulted by the serene tints and shades of blue which ultimately drove back the blazing aura--leaving a frail, transparent ribbon stretching across the horizon, portraying the spectrum faintly. Dusks' majesty had reached its peak, a mere display of the beauty of the world.

Her eyes finally settled on the man--meeting the unforgiving mask of wood. She gave a simple glance at the threatening weapon coated in crackling energy, a mere pigment of the elemental spectrum that spoke of destructive blazes. "I knew you would come, I was waiting for you." her next statement followed rather unexpectedly. She was unphased. "The shackles never lie." and as if to prove her last sentence true, she added, "Let me show you."

Both soft purple irises blossomed in ethereal luminosity, bleeding a flowing energy taking abstract tonalities shifting and and forth from blues, violets, purples, pinks and blacks before dissipating into nothingness. Underneath his mask, the man would inevitably notice. The world for both's perception shifted in an instant into a warped array of chroma, the sky prevailing with deranged byzantium, magenta and cerise. A titanic web of chains--their overwhelming red radiance indescribable albeit entrancing--surging from the apparent nowhere and extending varying lengths before fading into the oblivion they appeared from. It seemed Phantasia--no, reality itself was entangled among the subtlety of their existence. A particular one linked both her and the scythe-wielding man, definite proof of a power beyond even the High Council's learning grasp. They were the Chains of Fate. The unearthly glow decreased in potency in an instant, leaving the double vision to be shattered back into reality.

A phantasmal visage of a translucent, spectral limb snaked into plain sight from her back, its form hovering ominously in front of the girl. Lethal, innate weapons that could pierce through flesh, bone and metal with equal ease with the mere twitch in a vein of her brain--vectors, as they had called them. Mind's extensions of unrestricted psychokinetic power caused by drastic enhancements to humans themselves were that what gave birth to her species as a whole. She was Version 24. "We will fight now, correct?" Her expression changed just before she spoke those words. Her lips formed a gentle smile, one that did not express confidence or macabre pleasure... it was, rather, a disturbingly genuine one.

It was about time.​

 

Amethyst orbs' dilation in response to the figure's sudden acceleration would be the only immediate reaction from Version 24 the assailant could notice. Her figure remained standing serenely still, her pose unwavering, devoid of fear or hesitation. The sole vector shuddered as if in anticipation, its form sharpening accurately, giving the entire tangible arm a vicious multidirectional edge. Her smile was quickly erased from her expression, completely replaced by a look of focused determination. It appeared the ghostly blade would be the definite counteracting measure. The flaw in her timing was notorious--as whatever she would launch in retaliation could be easily avoided, parried or countered. It did not move. A blur of motion shot from a completely blind angle: a second spectral extension, jagged edges throughout its extending shape describing malicious claws that would shred skin, tear muscle and crush bone with monstrous ease.

The Witch Hunter, with his momentum, with his optical focus on the young Diclonius, would not see it. The vector's release was inwards, as the transparent appendage surged straight from her chest, aiming for her assailant's. The immediate maneuver was not just highly probable to be fatal, but it would inexorably halt his movement, as well as whatever strike he would be performing. She knew, however, what she would see would only be a fraction of reality. As acute as her sight was, the Diclonius knew better than to rely on her standard senses as they were easy to fool and deceive. The faint residual energy leaking from her eyes flared up instantaneously but very briefly before returning to their previous state.

Aurora listened to her mind's eye.