[Space]
Even with destruction on the horizon the two monsters continued their bout.
Lucinda flew first, white hair billowing out behind her. Rhiannon followed like a comet.
They collided.
Their blades met, space distorted violently around them. The pressure of their collision flattened a dozen meteors drifting nearby into dust. Lucinda recoiled, not out of weakness, it be foolish to engage in close quarters now. So she floated back, her eyes narrowing.
Rhiannon merely grinned.
"Seems you're getting smarter at least." She mused as she snapped her fingers.
The fabric of space behind her split open with a wet, unnatural sound, revealing two titanic gashes. They stretched outward like gaping mouths, the color of fresh blood, their size immeasurable—dwarfing even gas giants, eclipsing stars.
From within them slithered appendages.
Tentacles of black, slick with some unnamable essence, slithered from the wounds in space. They twisted and expanded, many-eyed, some with sharp protrusions, some with shrieking mouths. They raced toward Lucinda.
One lashed out—and with it, a distant planet caught in its path was annihilated. Pulverized into a fine mist.
Lucinda's gaze did not waver.
"[…Greed.]"
And the stars dimmed.
From around them, the energy of nearby start twisted—threads of plasma coiling in toward her. The energy of the stars bled into her, swirling into her blade. Her sword blazed with an intense glow as she darted forward at impossible speed—so fast the stars behind her blurred in her vision. One appendage struck toward her, but with a single rotation of her body mid-flight, she slashed upward, and her blade cleaved clean through it. The appendage split, the wound glowing with white light before it disintegrated into granules of ash and nothing.
Another lunged—a thick, barbed tendril lined with gnashing, circular mouth. Lucinda spun, her blade carving a perfect crescent arc. Each mouth along the tendril burst open with internal combustion before the entire thing was reduced to sparks that faded into space.
Two more came in tandem, coiling around her, trying to cage her. She darted between them, light trailing behind her, and in a single motion, her sword traced a complex symbol in the air. A glyph ignited—imploding—and the tendrils were caught in the ensuing vacuum burst, folding inward on themselves before she slashed through them both with a downward arc.
More appendages fell toward her.
Dozens.
She flew between them with ease, their immense size slowed them down considerably as her blade sliced through thick flesh, vaporizing masses.
One reached for her from below, its sharp edges expanding outward like a net, Lucinda dove straight into it. Her sword glowed brighter, absorbing one final star, and she slashed upward in an arc. The appendage was cleaved, and the rest of its form ruptured violently.
The final, largest appendage descended—a monstrosity wide as a continent, with dozens of gnashing jaws down its length—Lucinda shot forward, twisting her body to dodge its weighty strike. She drew her blade back and cleaved it apart in one powerful motion, the enormous edges falling apart.
The moment her blade cleaved through the appendage—its severed bulk erupting into globules of dark matter, a sharp crack tore through her thoughts. It wasn't the noise that broke it—it was the force. The pressure of something hurtling through space.
Lucinda's eyes widened.
Rhiannon was upon her.
With a scream of speed that bent light, Rhiannon hurtled forward, golden hair snapping wildly behind her. Her large blade howled as it carved a red arc through space before it met Lucinda's blade in a loud clang. The force from the collision shot outward, creating a roiling wall of distortion that expanded in every direction, cracking the rings of a nearby gas giant, scattering asteroids like pebbles.
Lucinda grimaced as she was hurled backward from the blow. Her fingers gripped her blade tighter. She stabilized, spinning once, then snapped to a halt mid-void, her body twisting, re-centering. Her gaze locked once more.
Rhiannon grinned.
"I thought you'd cut through those like paper," she said, she seemed almost proud. "But you've yet to match me, girl. Time for some swordplay, let use see if you can keep up."
Lucinda frowned, Rhiannon had the clear advantage when it came to fighting close ranged. But that was not something she could always avoid. So she steadied herself.
Rhiannon darted forward, blade drawn behind her, then slashed in a horizontal arc that split a distant asteroid clean in half from air pressure. Lucinda ducked low—her body curved—her blade rising in a parry that barely caught Rhiannon's, the clash sending sparks that burned white-hot in vacuum.
Rhiannon twisted her wrist—Lucinda's grip nearly buckled. She twirled out of the bind, dragging her blade along the edge of Rhiannon's in a gliding spark, before pivoting mid-air, lashing out with a crescent slash aimed at Rhiannon's midsection.
But Rhiannon was faster.
She stepped through space, phasing forward in a burst of blood-red light and catching Lucinda's swing against the broadside of her greatsword. The impact cracked invisible shockplates across the area.
Their eyes met again.
Lucinda twisted, her blade twisting, stabbing forward—Rhiannon turned sideways, allowing the strike to skim past her breastplate. In the same breath, she brought her pommel down like a fist, but Lucinda raised her armored wrist, absorbing the blow with a grunt as the impact rang through her bones.
They spun apart once more.
Then again—Rhiannon faked a high slash, baiting Lucinda into a parry, only to turn the motion into a low sweep, dragging her black greatsword toward Lucinda's ankles.
Lucinda jumped, flipping through airless space. She used the motion to twist downward with a punishing overhead swing—but Rhiannon was already there, intercepting it with both arms, blade locked in place.
Their faces were inches apart now.
"You're learning," Rhiannon hissed, her tone suddenly laced with amusement. "Your hesitation's still there, but it's shrinking. You've resolved to kill me, mayhap that resolve is no longer empty, hm."
Lucinda didn't flinch. "Maybe. Though I'll take no pleasure in it."
That made Rhiannon's smile widen as she shoved Lucinda back with an explosive pulse of strength, their swords parting again with a screech of metal and sparks.
Lucinda flipped backward—three times—before coming to a full stop. Blood ran from a cut on her lip. But her stance remained steady, she was breathing harder.
Rhiannon was not.
But she was watching. As if for the first time, her opponent had become more than a nuisance.
"You're not just swinging prettier, girl," she muttered. "Seems you've a knack for adapting."
Lucinda didn't reply. Her eyes narrowed. The glow around her blade brightened—just faintly.
Rhiannon adjusted her stance slightly.
"You should go further beyond, you should learn further, adapt further. To even graze my flesh you must push yourself" Rhiannon's voice echoed. And then an explosion of force.
A shockwave erupted as she surged forward, a golden meteor, sword drawn back with such ferocity that space distorted around her frame.
("Learn and adapt further, huh?") She had heard those instructions before, each day during her training. She was pushed to become stronger, faster, and smarter. At the time, the process had felt forceful, but now, everything felt strangely easier. She could almost feel herself growing.
She smiled, it was soft at first—a fragile, gentle expression from one so beautiful. But as her fingers curled tighter around her blade, as the heat of incoming destruction bathed her in pressure—she grinned.
A single moment passed.
Then they clashed once more
The collision of steel against steel rang out like a bell, resounding through constellations. Sparks the rained from the impact point.
Rhiannon spun her greatsword wide with a diagonal cleave. Lucinda ducked beneath it with a twirl, hair spiraling behind her. Her blade glinted as she carved upward, only to meet Rhiannon's brutal downward swing with a titanic, bone-shaking clang.
Lucinda staggered backward from the clash.
"You actually countered that. You're improving," she said with surprising softness. "I'm almost touched."
Lucinda, breath steady despite the burning pressure in her limbs, simply responded, "Seems so."
Rhiannon's grin widened—and that was when something screamed, from their flank—something stirred.
A sudden movement.
An enormous shadow—a fist, larger than any world around them—plummeted toward them from the side. It moved with impossible speed for its size, no sound, only the pressure caving inward beneath its descent.
They didn't speak, they both turned. Eyes locked and swords raised as they striked.
Twin blades sliced upward in unison. The fist met their blades, and in one moment, it shattered. Torn into ribbons of writhing black particles, violet ichor staining space as the force of their combined assault tore the flesh asunder. The fragments twisted and disintegrated under the force, as if swept away by wind.
And then they saw it.
An abomination, vast and with no real form.
Floating where planets should have been. Its skin writhed with patterns—sigils of violet. Its shape was a mess of tendrils and darkness.
Lucinda froze mid-hover, confusion on her face. "What… is that?"
But Rhiannon—unbothered—merely raised a single hand.
And above the creature, who now seemed to shriek at its missing arm, a tear appeared. A massive red rupture opened once more. Something sharp emerged—not a blade, but something like a jagged pike. It dwarfed the creature as it shot downward, piercing through it with no resistance. The force caused distant planets and stars to tremble as the creature screeched and writhed.
Lucinda ducked as it lashed out with its remaining hand, the enormous appendage flying above her, missing. She still looked perplexed; the creature lacked mana, so she assumed it was Rhiannon's creation. But seeing as how the woman was attacking it, that did not seem to be the case.
She watched, unnerved, as the creature thrashed about while the pike pushed deeper into it. Despite being so foreign, it still experienced pain.
The creature gave up, its form dissipating slowly as the pike and tear disappeared.
"So… the first calamity is already underway, hm." Rhiannon murmured with indifference. She didn't move much as she spoke. Her eyes remained fixed on the vast remains of the creature she's just obliterated, the chunks of dissolving shadow still twitching.
Lucinda's gaze immediately shifted toward her, eyes narrowing, brows furrowing. There was something in Rhiannon's tone that unsettled her— foreknowledge. Like this wasn't unexpected. Like this wasn't unusual. Like she knew something Lucinda didn't.
"Calamity?" Lucinda's voice cracked with heavy wariness. "What are you talking about?"
Rhiannon finally turned, drifting lazily. Her great sword was casually hoisted onto her shoulder with one smooth movement, as if the earlier battle meant nothing to her, as if the monstrous threat she'd vanquished was merely an inconvenience.
"Ah," she said, almost wistfully. "Many are ignorant to it, I suppose. Such things have been allowed to fade. But history always repeats itself when arrogance outpaces understanding."
She floated a little closer, not with hostility. Lucinda didn't sense aggression. Not now. Whatever was happening, whatever this was, Rhiannon no longer needed violence to make her point. If she had ever truly needed it at all.
Still, Lucinda held her blade a little closer.
Rhiannon tilted her head, observing Lucinda with a smile. "This is the beginning," she continued, "the soft thunderclap before the storm. Chaos, pure and boundless—an unraveling that will stretch across the realm until nothings remains. Not a mere battle. Not a war. But something so vast it won't even feel like dying. The very laws that govern your universe will break, girl. And no one will be spared by mercy or ignorance."
Lucinda's expression tightened. The bluntness of Rhiannon's words struck her like a physical blow, not because they were cruel, but because they were spoken so matter-of-factly—without flair, without embellishment, without hope. There was no gloating in Rhiannon's voice. No twisted joy. Just the cadence of someone who had seen this all before.
And survived it.
Or maybe caused it.
Lucinda's voice trembled slightly, but she forced it out: "You're saying this realm is going to face destruction? On that scale?"
Rhiannon simply gave a slight shrug, as if the demise of existence wasn't worth too many words.
"It may try to resist it," she said coolly. "And in truth, a few of you have worth. Potential. Even power. But as a whole? This era is weak. Languid. Spoiled by the illusion of stability. It might not be this calamity that unravels everything. But the next? Or the one after? All it takes is one thread being pulled in the right—or wrong—place, and everything falls apart. It's not about if. It's about when."
She turned her back slightly, letting the stars wash over her.
"So… what will you do, girl?" she asked, softly. "With all that strength in your hands? Will you choose to wield it for the trembling masses that cry out for saviors? Or is that simply a path you've walked because it was expected of you? I wonder… do you even know what you want?"
Lucinda recoiled slightly, blinking. That question… it shouldn't have stung. But it did.
"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, more forcefully than she intended.
Rhiannon smirked faintly.
"You're a lost lamb," she said. "So very much like your beloved Goddess, Octavia. The two of you walk different paths, but both bear the same weight—the same uncertainty. You strive, you sacrifice, you shine so brightly… but there's a hollow note in your melody, child. You act. But you do not choose. You fight. But you do not know why. It is… well, it's almost beautiful."
Lucinda wanted to respond, to scream a rebuttal, to call her wrong. But her mouth remained closed. Her hands tightened around the hilt of her sword. Because deep down she wasn't entirely sure Rhiannon was wrong.
Rhiannon noticed.
"But how… how does something like a calamity even begin?" Lucinda blurted out, searching for footing in the unknown. "To destroy an entire realm, you'd have to destroy the Goddess Astrea's anchors first. The core of this existence would have to be severed. That's… that's madness."
Rhiannon let out a low chuckle.
"Yes," she agreed, turning her gaze back toward the passing stars. "Madness indeed. The kind only the most brilliant—or most broken—are capable of. This? This is not nature. This is not fate. This is the will of someone who no longer wishes to abide by the order of creation."
Then she sighed, brushing a lock of golden hair behind her ear.
"But I tire of battle." She glanced at Lucinda again, eyes half-lidded. "And I find myself curious. Curious how this delicate era will handle what is to come. So I'll not stop you. Not today. You may continue to pretend to be a savior, a champion, or whatever title helps you sleep. But understand this, girl: soon, you will no longer have the luxury of being lost. Soon, the realm will scream for direction. And you must ask yourself—not what the world needs… but what you want to be."
She leaned forward slightly.
"Because it is quite clear, Lucinda. You are not meant to play hero. Not the way you are now."
Lucinda flinched at the words, face tightening, but she said nothing.
And then a surge of mana erupted around her, an intense red aura igniting.
And in the next instant—
She vanished.
Blasted forward at incomprehensible speeds, ripping through space. Rhiannon merely watched her go, arms folding behind her back, lips curling into the faintest smile.
"You really are just Octavia, huh?" she whispered to herself.