"Are you sure?"
"Sure about what?"
"Your plan... Aren't you afraid of... complications?"
"Like what?"
"Well, for one, the current Generation seems rather strong, stronger than those before, not to mention they plan to make a move too."
"So? I'll crush them all the same."
"But-"
"But what? Do you think I am not able to handle them? Don't forget your place."
"It's not that, just... we, you, have waited for so long, what would another 50 or 100 years do?"
"I have been tired of waiting since a long time ago, woman. It does not matter who stands before me. False Kings or the dogs of my pathethic little sister, I will crush them all the same. And now be silent. I might not be capable of killing you but you can feel pain just all the same."
"..."

And thus, the final act began.

---

An invitation. The guests were all the same. For some, it might occur as stupid to simply show your face to those who would soon be your enemies. Yet, tradition was tradition. Then again it wasn't too unheard of fragile alliances emerging from the opening ceremony, being the one and only time every Magician was forced to a truce for a few more hours. And for the most paranoid of all, disguises were still a thing.

The hall, being in the middle of New Sealand's capital and only city 'Little London', was part of a rather old and grand building which served as sort of Headquarters for The Voice of Change. A place she and her attendants were residing in as long as Ragnarok was underway. The very same place that those without an Letter of Invitation registered to attend the Holy Ritual.

It was a strange mix in atmosphere. On one side, some rather grumpy looking beings made no secret out of their distaste for others, creating a tension in the air that was quickly defused by those who hadn't even realized what they had gotten into; taking good care of the very tasty buffet while having light-hearted conversations with others. That was, until The Voice of Change spoke up.

"Attention everyone!" A soft female voice, standing on top of a stage, spoke up - loud and willful enough to silence any chatter that had been ongoing before. "My name is El 'Maria' Fran, also known as The Voice of Change as most of you should know." She looked with a smile into the crowd, a hunch of sadness. "I am truly grateful, to all of you. Some of you may seek glory, some to settle feuds, others may just seek a thrill. Others...may just want to kill. Your reasons may be numerous. Your morales might be ambiguous. BUT, it matters not. For I want you to remember, once again, about the purpose of this holy ritual." She fell silent for a bit, letting her magical enhanced voice settle in.

"Above all, no matter how insignificant you may think of of your possible death. Each and everyone of you is important. Small or big, powerful or weak, old or young, in this battle, alive or dead, everybody has a purpose. Everybody is a winner. For that we shall never forget, if the World Snake is to ever break free, all is lost." Clearing her throat in a symbolic fashion, the room now got louder again, alas, The Voice was not finished yet.

"As some of you may very well be aware, every 50 years there can be... certain... kind of changes to the rules, mostly ensuring that no harm comes to those who walk blind. It is our, and my, duty to protect them from the many great powers you are capable of orchestrating. But it is also my duty to do my utmost to ensure each of you can fight without any worry for those without Talent. So... this year, I, The Voice of Change, has a gift to all of you." With that, the woman closed her eyes, speaking in silence.

Feelings. Pictures. Sounds. Smell. A happy memory. No one could tell how long it was, but appeared like hours, as The Voice of Change chanted her indescribable rhythms like a spell over the entire room - even the numerous servants were not spared.
"Alright." Her voice cut deeply into everybody like a painful blade, the words she had just spoken not recallable by anyone.

"Take a look at your right ring finger." A simple silver-ring was now attached to it, regardless of how much jewelry they wore before. "It's a simple, yet powerful spell, made just for the purpose of this Ragnarok." The Voice of Change closed her eyes for a second before continuing. "It's a tool to create an alternate dimension to ours, a copy, you may say. Void of any, if not most, life. In there, you may battle as you wish." Another moment of silence, giving people enough time to be amazed or skeptical about this tool.

"Now, rest assured that this Ring is compatible with whatever abilities you may have on your own. Of course, you're not forced to use it either. Also, it should go without saying that it won't allow you to hide from your enemies. An aggressor can simply drag you into it, and once inside, escape is not that simple." A small chuckle escaped her lips. "But you shall see. Now, to enter, simply wear it and speak 'Duet'. You can escape the same way - if the conditions have been fulfilled, that is. ... It should go without saying that you're NOT allowed to discard the ring." With that, The Voice of Change clapped her hands three times.

"4 more hours until midnight." 4 more hours until the slaughter would officially start. "And for those of you, who still feel uncomfortable with my gift." Her eyes gazed a view of the competitors. "I can offer you the same talent on a more inner level." With that, the woman was done. Simply leaving to backstage, ready to receive those who still held the opinion of extra care.

For the others, they were still free to do whatever they wanted. Create alliances, make friends, enemies, collect information, prepare for the oncoming battle and so on... .

Reiko stared at the ring as she tried to recall the Voice's speech though, all efforts made to that were in vain as nothing but a void was left on Reiko's mind, in regard to it. "It seems like we will have to find out during this 'war'..." Reiko said to herself, sort of absentmindedly.

Four hours was enough time to make whatever preparations she would need to ensure her survival in this conflict, but first Reiko had to try and gather information about her rivals... foes... no, on this situation, enemies is the best suited word. Reiko held a glass of wine —half empty— on her hands as she found a position where she could observe the room from a better angle, taking accounts of every individual in the hall, but only ever sparing a second glance to a few more... peculiar ones.

The first of them was an individual that was dressed in... westernized ninja robes? Just the fact that someone would wear such a thing in public spoke volumes about said person. Then, there was that other one who looked like a total and complete punk, fitting for a city called Little London... yes, nevertheless, a testament of how much modern society had deteriorated. Obviously the woman with doll-like, fine features caught Reiko's eyes, mainly because the Scarlet Sage could feel something dangerous from her. Lastly, there was the one that looked like he was having a certain hardship in figuring where everything was (blind, maybe?), this last one making Reiko wonder what brought someone with an impaired vision to this conflict and which secrets he could have that would cause he to think that he had a chance at victory.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to wait and see. For the time being, I should go back home and think." Reiko thought, fetching her keys and getting ready to leave, that is, if no one got in her way.

---

No penalty. No introspection. No blood.

The thousand points that pierce the world fail, as they are consumed by a thousand mouths born of the world.

This was never a dream or a hope. There was no desire to take everything into oneself. There was no lust for godhood or transcendence.

There was only that simple question, gnawing at the soul itself: What can I eat next?

I want to continue eating.

If I die, then I won't eat anymore.

So, I want to live. I want to live. I want to live. And so, to this world I utter a curse. To this vessel I utter a prayer. To this soul I utter a name.

---

She'd stood afar from the others, watching in silence as the woman spoke about various things that occasionally mattered, shifting in and out of actually paying attention. The 'everybody is a winner' talk didn't make much sense, it was like what she heard angry adults rant about on the Internet about "entitled youth and their consolation prizes" and whatnot. Flyta briefly considered trying to interrupt the woman to crack a joke about said subject, probably with a tacky remark about if the clans of the losers would be sent consolation trophies, but didn't end up doing that. That would be rude, and Flyta wasn't a rude person.

...oh, wait, they were supposed to protect people without magic? That was a problem. Hopefully nobody knew about the rude guy who had spilled his drink on her at the airport, and how he'd been eaten. Should she spit him out now? No, that would be awkward, better to just act natural. What eaten guy? Flyta didn't know anything about an eaten guy. N-Nope, not at all, a-ahahaha, why would she?

Truly brilliant.

At any rate, when the speech finally wore down to a close, Flyta gave her new ring a once-over, briefly contemplating eating it before remembering that the whole "potentially revealing part of your ability to observant people before the competition even starts" thing was probably a bad idea. Yeah, better to avoid that.

Oh, one of the girls was leaving. Well, that was kind of rude, but whatever. She'd probably leave too in a bit, but not for now. For now, she would simply stand off to the side like that weird guy at a party who just sort of stares and waits for people to approach him, but doesn't make an effort to approach people herself. The difference was that Flyta was a young girl and not a doughy, strange man, so it at least looked less creepy.

~Karen~

---

For the most part, the party or gathering or whatever you wanted to call this was going fine. Smoothly even to the point of no incident. The Voice of Change of course gave her speech to the audience but Karen kind of figured it was all rehearsed. This was just another tradition after all so the winners probably had a set amount of lines to say by this point in time.

Sipping from her glass, Karen did like much the others and that consisted of darting her eyes to and fro to scope out the competition. As always the place was filled with an eccentric band but what did she expect? Mages came in all sorts of shapes and forms; given her rather Victorian attire, she was no different and had little room to complain herself.

What did catch her eye though was a woman with pink hair who seemed to be leaving the premises. Maybe a little suspicious, sure, but given that either one of them could die when the tournament began? Karen couldn’t blame her for not wanting one last good rest before their life was on the line. She should be sleeping too lest her skills be reduced in battle.

With her subjects of quarry now scattered about and people began to mingle, she focused on the ring that was gifted onto her. So the Voice of Change was being generous? She wondered if there was a time-limit to these rings or maybe some sort of restriction to how many times they could be used at all. Furthermore, the Voice of Change’s final words got her curious.

Something about the gift becoming more inner…more personal? Frankly, Karen was curious on what that might entail and with four hours left, she had time to kill. So with a last gulp of her drink and a parting glance at the departing woman, she walked to where the Voice of Change had been. She had questions for what else was special about this gifted ring.

---

---

---

---

---

The speech by The Voice of Change was... breathtaking to say the least as he could not simply focus or remember anything in the past moments in which slipped through his hands thoughtlessly. When she was done, all he saw the shiny beacon on his hand that outshone almost everyone else around him. There was those who had a noticeable difference from each other that perked his interest indeed but with the ring on his finger, it would distract him as long as it was there. It was a masterful piece of work in which he admired for the craftsmanship that was put into the creation of it. However, such a feat and time that would be needed to be invested in such a work of art would been enough to remember. The catch was that he didn't remember the expansive amount of magic being put into making these rings which was very curious over his missing spot in his memories.

The offer that was given by The Voice of change indeed was enticing to him and was the only thing that was on his mind given the nature between him and the ring. He silently questioned the qualities of the ring and what it was capable of doing when used along with many other specifics, scenarios and many things relating to the ring. There were many questions that could be asked and some that would be answered when she talked to The Voice of Change to take her offer in internalizing the gift.

On his way to the powerful lady, he took notice of the other competitors which he brought his attention to which would be the competition for the Ragnorok. A large majority were what he could consider as 'average' and similar to everyone else in comparison while some had other defining features. Taking note of a few particulars which seriously took his interest as he slowly stopped to observe someone and appreciate their qualities from a distance. Smiling a little bit at the handful of people in the crowds that would make this competition very interesting to be in and not to mention fun. Taking note of the time that he had left to spend the night, there were about 4 more hours that he could spend and he might as well take care about the ring first.

---

Killian stood in the center of the crowd sweating his brains out. He was nervous as all hell and the fact that the people standing around him would soon happily pull his intestines out through his eye-sockets didn't help in keeping down this morning's breakfast. The only saving grace was the hoodie he wore to disguise his identity and the look on his face. Probably the only smart idea he had had in a while, not including taking part in this crazy gladiator foo bah. He took a swallow of spit to hopefully keep the morning's bagel sandwich down and looked around. To his relief, it probably looked like he was one of the twitchy, kill-happy psychos in the room, as he could count a few of them in the room on one hand and a few other odd characters.

He started scanning the room from behind his hood and processing his thoughts, a little more calm now, Wow...all-star cast, these people look dangerous as hell....is that girl looking at me? Killian tensed up like a robot as the red-haired woman's gaze glanced over him. Clearly, his skills in playing it cool had declined in the past few years as he awkwardly waddled out of the way of her view into the crowd of mages into the view of another woman. She seemed pretty apathetic with a calculating look in her eye, though she did seem as if she was lonely. Killian shook it off and activated his secret move, 'Social Situation Evasive Maneuver Technique'. With what he would only describe as flawless grace, Killian turned his head as if he had never been looking in that direction and awkwardly pushed his way back into the crowd. Mission accomplished, another perfectly executed maneuver he thought sarcastically.

Aimlessly, he began weaving through the crowd of people admiring his new ring. He could tell that the magic behind it was deeply intricate, which goes to show the abilities of those known as 'The Four Kings'. How nice it would be to wield magic like that, so strong almost nothing is a calculable risk. He could only dream of that, but he was still here. Calculating danger in every move. Identifying every consequence. So many risks and uncontrollables, which made everything a whole new scary.

After a few minutes of his skillful social tact, he ended up on the stage where the Voice of Change had retreated to the back. He looked towards the exit and almost decided to leave, but decided against it. He didn't really want to go outside, he had a feeling he would just lock himself in his room for four hours and longer until one of these psychos came crashing in and wrecking everything. Experiencing the ring on an 'inner' level sounded foreboding, but experiencing four hours of paranoia alone sounded pretty worse. Apparently there was a girl who had decided she wanted to go backstage too. She seemed normal enough, except for the white hair and wardrobe, which weren't that big a deal when compared to a few of the other interesting strangers in the room, namely the guy who was looking out into the crowd with a grin on his face. Creepy...Killian thought before bringing his attention back to the white-haired girl. Perhaps now was the time for real social interaction. A bold step Killian, are you prepared for this kind of rigorous activity? We haven't trained for this, He thought to himself like this quite a bit, it kept him from thinking about worse.I'm ready Killian, let's do this.
In another well coordinated move, Killian deftly raised his left hand in a half-hearted wave towards the girl and grunted a "Hey." under his breath.
God I'm good

“Everybody is a winner.”

Pressed in the corner of the great hall in an attempt to make herself as unnoticeable as possible, Naoko could only inwardly groan at that singular line that passed out from the Voice of Change’s mouth. Wasn’t that just unreasonable? Everyone is a winner? Hell no, out of all the people here, she was probably the only Einherjar that got caught up in this bloody mess by accident. Stroking her ring nervously, she turned from one individual to the next, and died a little more on the inside. Uwah, all these highly individualized people. Pink-haired aristocrats swishing glasses of wine. Shameless dudes dressed up in ninja garb. A whole array of weirdos stalking about, eating free food and drinking free wine.

Ah, this suckssssss.

No doubt they were all doing things like scouting out the competition or putting up insidious magical trackers or whatever else they did. That guy with the weird eyes especially creeped her out and she instinctively shied away behind a tower of sparkling champagne as his gaze swept the room. A few others, after receiving the ring, went after the Voice of Change, no doubt interested in getting even more goodies, but Naoko? She stayed put, made sure that her train pass was still in her pockets, and poured herself a tall glass of liquor. The clear liquid had a sharp smell, and she took a large gulp without hesitation.

It burned the insides of her mouth and throat, spirits sledgehammering all the troublesome thoughts and worries out of her head. Leaning against the curtains, Naoko’s red eyes traced up at the twinkling chandeliers. How pretty. Ephemeral. Transient.

Like cut flowers, wilting once the vase dries out.

And like a girl stood up on her date for prom night, Naoko let out a long sigh.

“Ah, this suckssssssssss.”

---

“Everyone here is a winner.”

Sera scoffed at the remark in The Voice of Change – the winner was the winner, there were no wishes granted for participation. In fact, the only real reward for taking part was likely death. The atmosphere in the room was tense, you could slice it with a knife as fellow mages were sizing each other up and getting ready for the upcoming conflict. Some mages even came in disguises, but Sera felt no need for such a cowardly tactic. If her competition got a good look at her then hopefully all the strong enemies would find her first. When The Voice of Change finished her speech and everyone observed the “gift” that she had been so kind to leave the competitors. With that, her speech ended and she vanished backstage.

“No fighting for four hours? What’s the big idea?” Sera exclaimed aloud. Looking around at the crowd she saw the tangible confusion, fear and tension as everyone readied for Ragnarok. She observed her nearby competitors; a cute boy in strange ninja clothes, some weirdo looking at the crowd from afar – maybe he was sizing up the competition? Sera debated flexing so she could convey that she was ready to brawl, but decided that the pose wouldn’t suit her dress. She’d been forced into a white party dress with a slit along the side by her handmaiden and with the added make-up and wavy hairstyle she had inflicted upon her she looked more like a doll than a fierce warrior. Perhaps the element of surprise would be advantageous?

Another eye-catcher was a girl with white hair and a super stylish look. She looked like she had an agenda – she looked focused and strong, beautiful too, and Sera made a mental note to challenge her to match before the event ended. There was some guy darting in between the crowd not talking to anybody in a strange hoodie – which didn’t seem very appropriate for the event, but by the look of him he didn’t have much experience talking to anyone. Another pretty girl with red hair who looked like she was leaving caught her eye. Leaving so soon? Perhaps she was getting ready for a match? Was the first fight of the competition about to start without her? Unacceptable! The only way to find out was to ask, so with her glass of wine in hand she made her way to the woman; standing a step too close into the other girl's personal space.

“Hey! My name is Sera Arrior, I’m the Mage from the Arrior Family. What’s good? Anyway, couldn’t help but notice that you’re leaving. It wouldn’t be to fight, would it? If it IS to fight, could I fight the winner?” Sera rambled at her before pausing to think.

“Wait, didn’t The Voice of Change say something about internalising our gift? We should probably do that before our battle royale! She said she would be backstage right? Follow me!”

And with that Sera set off towards the backstage in order the find The Voice of Change, clearing a path through the crowd for Reiko to follow.

---

@KoL

Man, this buffet is great. Whirlwind thought, as he cheerfuly munched his way through his second plate of food, only pausing to quaff from his third cup of coffee. Trying to rebuild a mage clan from almost the ground up was a difficult and expensive endeavor. Loads of money was luxury that was only a dim memory for Whirlwind; he had been subsiding on Ramen and microwave meals for far too long. Besides, who would pass up a free meal? The only disappointment was the coffee. It was nasty, instant stuff, pre-ground and bought in a can, then scooped and dumped en masse into a pot of lukewarm water. No love, no passion, just a impersonal sludge of water and grounds. Bleagh.

But, it was coffee, and Whirlwind was happy to drain his cup with a satisfied sigh. Between his scruffy appearance, and worn clothing, it could be forgiven to see him as some hobo, or a homeless person. In fact, earlier, the guards mistook him for such a person, and tried to deny him entry. It took a great amount of convincing, and even a few displays of magic to get them to let him pass. He was eyeing the buffet, considering whether or not to go for another cup of coffee when the Voice of Change began her speech.

The speach was short, and pretty, but seemed empty, meaningless. Whirlwind shook his head. Its a little hard to be a winner when you are dead. He thought to himself. Then the Voice called upon a great magic, and with it, came flashes of feelings, and sharp pain. Outwardly, Whirlwind still had his grin, and laid back demeanor, but inwarly the words reawaked his old hurt, loneliness, and grief for what he lost. Then it was over. He collected himself quickly, but still felt a little shaken. What was that? He wondered, as he inspected the shiny ring that had appeared on his hand. The Voice continued their explanation, ending on a rather cryptic note about making the power 'more personal' whatever that ment. Whirlwind decided to follow her, and find out what she ment. He would take any edge he could, and he at least wanted to know what is was, so he would not be surprised, later.

He wove a roundabout route backstage, with his fourth cup of coffee cluched in his hand, picked up on the way. He eventually converged with a few others, who also seemed to be curious about what the Voice had said.

"Good evening." He greeted them, with a nod, and his trademark grin.

~Karen~

---

“Hmm?”

Karen turned to the side to notice that she wasn’t the only one curious about the Voice’s gift as a small crowd of people had gathered behind her for the same purpose as her. What got her attention though was a man close to her wearing a strange looking hood and who muttered a greeting. Maybe not the best way to start off but she might as well be friendly before death.

“Oh, hello there. You must be one of the other competitors, right?” she asked. Though she would say nothing more until at the hooded man would answer next. It was simple manners really. That, and she didn’t feel like talking too much just from her nature alone. This could all be a ploy by the man to sweet talk her into revealing the secret of her Yggdrasil Seed after all.

Not only that, but there was one more individual that caught Karen’s eye though not by his sense of self and more for his appearance. Looking over the shaggy, almost hobo-looking man, Karen wondered if this guy really was a Mage or just a freeloader passing off as one. Still, he was being courteous all the same so she gave him an acknowledging nod.

---

"...Traditions, my child. Traditions." The Voice of Change said to a way younger girl - most likely the youngest in the entire building - as a bunch of people actually made their way to take up on the offer she had spoken about just mere seconds ago. "Whatever. I get the whole snake-sealing business, and how it's important, but dead is dead. There is no 'victory' about that. Nobody is gonna 'celebrate' yet alone waste their time looking up all the names of all the morons who died." The rather blunt child replied swiftly, drawing out a sigh from the Voice. Ruffling her hair the older woman replied. "It's good to be young, but you should watch your tongue around strangers, Charlotte." With those words, she finally turned around to the few who might have been waiting, ignoring the protest her young Apprentice was giving.

"That's more than I expected." The woman replied in a way too casual manner, before continuing. "Well, I am sure you have figured it out by what I said but... just to make sure... considering you are disqualified when discarding the ring I gave you, there might be those still feeling uncomfortable with wearing it - for whatever reason. Thus, rather than simply having it on your body I am capable of imprinting the same magic onto your soul. Of course, only until this Ragnarok ended." Turning her earlier, vague statement, into something rather blunt, she looked at each of them until her eyes rested on the blind one. "For this to work, however, I have to directly connect to your soul, which is easily done through closer contact..." Not even letting anybody assume anything dirty, she proceeded with a simple example. "Like holding hands."

With a smile, the Voice of Change now pointed towards a door that was further backstage. "Now, if you would follow me, one person after the other. It's... better to do this under four eyes." With those words, as if some sort of command, four suited man came forward, each looking just like the other: Some sort of bodyguards, most likely, for whatever reason she needed them.

With that, the Voice of Change ruffled the hair of Charlotte - who had been silent the entire time - once more. "Sorry, my child, but this is something I can not show you yet." To which she simply crossed her arms in annoyance. "Whatever, just stop wasting time and get to it." And thus, The Voice of Change simply left behind the door, waiting for the participants to sort it out however they want.

The experience behind the door would have been just like before, just tenfold more intense. While each individual wouldn't remember any specifics, outside of The Voice of Change holding both of their hands with her own and whispering forbidden words into their ears, they were aware that something happened. And any attempts, how hard they may be, to actually remember, would end with a terrifying and cold feeling.

---

Meanwhile, in the main hall, people were slowly doing their own thing. With most leaving, others gathered information and forged alliances and enemies alike. Under all those people, however, was one individual that made someone's heart skip a beat just by looking at her - and not in a positive sense. Despite her small statue, her face was nearly void of emotion, the most being something akin to disgust... or superiority? Yet, that wasn't it, nobody - except the blind one - could tell what exactly was up with this tiny noble and the butler accompanying her but some, weaker-willed people, were clearly greatly frightened just by looking at her. Of course, the small woman itself didn't seem to care about any of this, as she simply left the room.

"Mercurius van Alvensleben!" Another voice rung out, gathering the attention of a few Magicians and Einherjar still present. It was a blonde, tall man, walking towards another hooded figurine. "Is that what you call a disguise, my friend?" He continued to speak, rather loudly. "Please, why this charade, my dear friend?" With a confident smirk, he looked around, before getting even louder. "For such highly talented individuals like ourselves there is no reason to hide, is there?" The loud man chuckled. "I mean, let's be honest, friend. We should just have an honourable, deciding, battle between each other. Every other Einherjar, not to mention those pathetic fools without a Seed, as far as I could tell aren't even worth the effort. Simply fodder. You and me, my friend. It is between us to decide who will call forth a Miracle." He laughed in a disgusting way, before looking the hooded man sharp into his hidden face. "And I will crush you just the same, my friend."

---

"Yep that's me", Killian muttered in reply to the white-haired girl, just now realizing that having a casual conversation wasn't particularly easy or feasible at this time. His discomfort only grew with the appearance of another, a scruffy man who looked almost out of place as Killian felt. The scruffy man offered a greeting followed by a smile, which Killian attempted to reciprocate. In truth what the scruffy man received from him was a grunt and a slight movement of his hand, that would be barely considered a wave as opposed to someone trying to swat at a fly and giving up halfway through. Killian was at a loss, his snappy dry wit didn't really extend well to strangers or very much past his own skull. Really he only talked fully to people he trusted or wasn't uncomfortable around, which unfortunately meant not very many.

Perhaps he would just cultivate a 'strong silent' type persona in order to avoid further interaction. The fact being that he didn't feel entirely strong at the moment or have any idea how to do that. As it turned out, he just ended up standing there pretending to be interested by something else. He noticed The Voice of Change and hurriedly followed her, mouthing a 'thank you' to any higher power watching. Perhaps one of them had cringed and given him an escape, he wouldn't have put it past them. The Voice of Change was accompanied by what seemed to be an indignant child, Maybe her kid?, Killian mused. This did not seem to be an ordinary child, the way she spoke definitely revealed a very morose point of view. Killian decided it wasn't his place to judge as The Voice of Change talked about imprinting the rings into their souls and putting her magic into them. Killian opened his mouth to speak but words didn't come out, maybe he shouldn't have come back here. Hell, he could've been halfway to a bus stop by now. He was tempted to turn around and walk out the way he came, but he paled at having to face the two he had his awkward encounter with earlier who now stood behind him. Perhaps he would activate his Yggdrasil seed and walk straight through the wall? No, as tempting as it was revealing his seed probably wasn't the smartest of ideas.

Killian bit his lip, he would go first and then get the hell out of here as quick as possible. He stepped past the bodyguards into the room, just him and one of the strongest magicians in the world. "Shit...", he muttered under his breath as he put his hands up to his masked face. This day was going way different than he had planned, in fact the entire second decade of his life was much different than he had planned. The thought of this all being for the only person he cared for was what kept him going, but it didn't make it any less scary. Some time later Killian exited the room, he was not entirely sure what he had experienced. The entire event was mysteriously foggy, he only remembered his clammy hands in The Voice of Change's and an intense feeling of dread. Clearly, I will be spending time repressing that memory, he thought with an uncomfortable grin on his face. He brushed past the people he had met earlier, not even acknowledging them. Past a girl and her butler, past the two quarreling magicians, and out of the building into the streets. He wanted to go home, but for some reason couldn't bring himself to. With a now serious look on his face and a few blocks away, Killian tightened the straps of his backpack, unzipped his hoodie, and started walking. His destination unclear, only one thing on his mind, that he had gotten himself into something bigger than he or anybody could imagine.

Uwahh, all these people with their overflowing individuality and their overbearing auras of power simply made Naoko want to drink more and more. Downing flutes of bubbly champagne like an alcoholic, she barely registered the stinging of alcohol, instead just trying to stop herself from staring at the little, doll-like girl that was attended by quite a handsome butler. Pity formed on her face for just an instant, at how she must have never had a childhood growing up, before the red-eyed Einherjar slapped her reddening cheeks. The little miss looked like the proud, noble type. Such a gaze would just get her pissed, wouldn’t it? Wheeling behind the tower of wine bottles, Naoko gazed from inbetween the gaps, and let out a sigh of relief. The little miss was leaving normally, not noticing her furtive glances. Thank the gods for that.

Before she could get too comfortable, however, another proud noble type started talking, unabashedly disrupting the conversations of everyone else. If the little miss had been the cold, proud type, the blond gentleman must definitely be the arrogant, flamboyant type. With hair slicked back to reveal his receding hairline, and a smirk that looked like it belonged to some low-level teenage delinquent, Naoko hid once more, this time cringing in embarrassment. It was the 21st century! Weren’t American rappers the only ones who were so idiotically audacious now?

“Ugh. This is actually pretty painful to watch…”

Naoko stopped. She clutched her mouth. She felt her cheeks. She looked at the blond aristo-punk. Then, she awkwardly smiled, turned away, and began to speedwalk out of the room.

Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleasedon’tchase…

"Ahh... hmm... I see, Sera, right?" Reiko stuttered for a bit, unsure about how to reply to someone as direct and unguarded as Sera, when she was expecting a competition between mages that knew nothing but cowardice and backstabbing. Then again, this could all be a trick so that Reiko would lower her guard even then, the Scarlet Sage couldn't get herself to be hostile to someone who treated her in a friendly way. "I'm Reiko Asamiya, though I'm not representing my family on this competition, you can call me Reiko, if you wish."

"Well, I can't tell you what my strategy is, can I? However, if you wish for a duel, meet me at the Bay Bridge in an hour. Now, if you excuse m-eeee~" Reiko was surprised when she was all but dragged to the backstage by Sera and her excessive energy. When they got there, the Scarlet Sage listened as the Voice of Change made her declaration, taking the seemingly apprentice named Charlotte into account, any information was useful, after all. "I'm thankful for the offer to internalize this ring's magic you spoke of, but I'll refuse it. I hope you'll understand me when I say I don't mean to offend; I would rather not have any foreign magic tampering with my body, even if the purpose is harmless. It's just a matter of privacy." Reiko said, waiting until everyone was done before attempting to leave the party once more.

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~Karen~

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So the Voice of Change had an apprentice in training? Karen supposed that made sense as the current Voice couldn’t remain so forever, especially with the rulings that dictated Ragnorak. Perhaps it was but a bit eerie to see a child so young interacting with what were basically a bout of killers and murderers, but that was just another thing to accept in this morbid scenario.

That being said, her attention was drawn away from the small girl and towards the Voice of Change herself. Her words drew the crowd in, beckoning them forward to the sort of miracle she could and would perform behind closed doors. With really nothing else better to do, she decided that she would participate in this secret sort of ritual and so waited her turn.

What followed next was something she could only describe as extraordinary, coming out of the experience with a slightly fatigued expression and a trembling body. Try as she might, she could not remember just what the Voice of Change had done to her, but the effects were clear enough. Cold? Yes. Terrifying? Subjective, and Karen had faced scarier things wrought about by her own flesh and blood….

Stumbling into the main room again, she had to regain her senses before seeing that the place was filled ever yet with new faces. A young girl that reminded her of her mother, some kind of butler person, a girl that looked to be enjoying way too much of the provided alcohol…she could also spot two mages who seemed to be discussing something.

Well, she still had plenty of time to kill and the process of contraction had not taken as long as she had expected. So with a still wobbling step, she waltzed right up to Reiko and Sera with a small nod. She would wait for them to finish their talk before putting out a small greeting herself. What was the harm in knowing your enemy a little and possibly finding out their secrets through a slip-up or two?

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