They find a simple meal in the mess hall, enough to tide them over for the evening before they return to their bunks. They eat alone, left to themselves before their escorts return them.

The next day the four girls are informed that the Nox front has passed far enough that travel is safe once again. Their luggage has yet to be recovered, but they group is informed that if it is it’ll be forwarded after them. They are, however, on a tight schedule and set to ship out immediately.

The airship commissioned is smaller and sleeker than their previous transport, made for moving quickly between two nearby cities. The trip itself is only several short hours before the sprawl of Palmyra appears on a peninsula below them. In the early morning it’s easy to see the waves of inky black clouds that encircle the city, thick streams of Nox warded off by tall walls and glowing diffusers installed atop them.

The air is brisk and windy as they disembark from the airship, but they have little time to enjoy the fresh air or the sight of the waterside docking area. Within minutes they’re spirited away into another transport, driven through the hilly streets of the city and toward the northern side. Their destination is a large medical facility, clearly military in nature judging by the guards, empty parking lots, and enhanced security as they’re checked in.

Thanks to their earlier delay there’s no time to rest or check in at the academy before their initial tests, and the doctors get right down to it. Each girl is poked and prodded with a myriad of instruments. Blood is taken and physical examinations follow, mental evaluations made after that. The whole process drags on for what seems like half the day before, at last, each candidate is given the ‘all clear’. Each is given a time to report for their procedure tomorrow.

They arrive at Nova Lux academy in the early evening. It’s a sprawling stone building with wide glass windows, a lush garden, and Imperium logos decorating every inch. Across from it stands it’s the Imperium’s Officer Academy, the lights of that sister-school shining almost as bright as those coming to life around Nova Lux itself.

There’s enough time for a quick tour of the facilities before the girls are escorted to the dormitory buildings. They’re quartered two to a room, the rooms themselves of decent size for a dorm. Two beds, two desks, a small kitchen and bathroom, colors in muted blues and golds. Sleep will find them eventually, until each is awakened by the morning call.

It’s actually not until late in the evening until their surgeries are scheduled. Another consequence of their late arrival.

Each girl in turn finds themselves escorted deep into the bowels of Nova Lux, past secure doors and winding passages, deep beneath the earth into the forge where Ars Magi are made. They find themselves in a circular room, an observation area outside of a small surgical chamber. The walls gleam sterile white and the lighting is bright and harsh, reminiscent of the hospital that they visited earlier.
Several final checks are done, and the last thing each remembers is a small cluster of white-coated doctors gathered around them, and the gleam of metal instruments before they sink into darkness.

---

Unlike the other four girls, Sadie arrived at Nova Lux without any notable issue. The airship ride was a long and uneventful journey, finishing with the arrival at Nova Lux and a pomp-filled orientation for the newly arriving class.

She too had to take the scheduled medical examinations, physicals, and jump through the same hoops that the rest of the arriving candidates did. Like her classmates she was given the go-ahead, though unlike them her surgery was delayed a day. The reasons weren’t entirely clear, but it’s a day later and late in the evening by the time she’s finally escorted down into the bowls of Nova Lux.

Soon she too drifts away into peaceful slumber as the doctors do their work.

---

Each of the five girls awakes in another gleaming white room, each lying in a small hospital cot. Harsh fluorescent lights illuminate the sterile room, the rectangular space empty save for a table full of medical equipment and the beds containing the other candidates. The four latecomers may be surprised to find Sadie among them, a fifth and unfamiliar body.

Surprise, if it’s there, will soon give way to an uncomfortable soreness. Each feels like they’ve just finished a marathon, their muscles exhausted and nerves aching with dull pain. The fuzzy-headedness doesn’t help, and it’s not entirely clear if that’s a side effect of the surgery or the IV drips attached to each of their arms.

Underneath the blankets and thin surgical gowns something else has changed. Inset in each girl’s navel is a small and gleaming gemstone: their Ars Armagus.

There’s no sign of the doctors they saw earlier, though it’s likely they’ll return at some point. For now, however, they are left to themselves.

Huff... Puff... Huff... Puff...

Running. Endless running. Continuing through ever-expanding, ever darkening tunnels.

"Someone! Anyone! Please... help me!"

Desperate cries, spurred on by shadows behind. They lash, whip and scrape skin. Every little misstep bringing them one step closer to catching you.

"Mom, dad, granny... where did you all go?! Why is it me... just me?!"

Your legs give out, you collapse. The shadows make their move. They grab you, lift you up, force you to look at their horrible, disfigured face. An inky substance oozes through their cracked features. A desperate struggle, you try to get loose, but it doesn't work. It's the end, your end, nobody to help.

But predator and prey are caught, caught beneath the crashing from above. Something presses down on you, heavy, slams you right down to the floor. It pins you, you can't move. A sharp pain shoots through your back, red mixing with black in a pool right before your eyes. You try to push, but to no avail. Strength is quickly leaving you. Your eyes glaze over and you... you see images, dancing in the liquid. They're, they're five happy figures. They're vanishing one... by one... by one... by one...

but then again,

you,
too,
are...

---

---

---

Chie's eyes slowly flutter open, her vision initially greeted by a brief white haze. She needs a moment to gather herself, dazedly turning her head left-to-right.

"Oh... this is..."

She figured she must be awake after the surgery. It only felt like a couple of minutes had passed since she went unconscious and then woke up again, but it had to have been far longer. She tried to move her arms, and succeeded, but not without difficulty. They felt heavy and tingly, as if the muscles spasmed with every little exertion. Her lips were dry, her head was foggy, but she was awake and aware. Awake enough to try and sit upright, at least. Chie gave herself a little push, trying to bend herself over forwards.

"Ow...!" she winced. A pain shot through her abdomen when Chie had tried to move in the way she did. She shuffled back a bit, supporting her back on the pillow beneath her, to try and bend her head forwards. The pain lessened, slightly, but not enough for it to stop throbbing. Chie reached out with the arm attached to her IV drop, getting a good view of being hooked up, in order to touch around her stomach. More stinging each little prod. Something hard was there, something that wasn't there before. Right... she had her... 'Ars Amagus' now. It felt slightly surreal to have it there. She pulled her hand back and saw blood, splattered across the palm and fingertips. She must've opened a wound. Too dazed to be worried about it.

Her experimenting would need to be put on a hold anyway. A sudden onset of nausea- most definitely because of her efforts so far, forced Chie to lie down again as quickly as possible. Her breathing was a bit hoarse; that wasn't helping the situation much. She closed her eyes for a bit. It was hard to distract herself from the various discomforts she felt. Her body was hurting, her head was foggy and she felt like she could throw up at any moment.

She needed to get her mind off her discomfort. The others were there too, she figured, for there were a couple of beds she spied in her initial scan of the (admittedly barren) room. Chie opened her eyes again, but she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the ceiling.

"Is... everyone feeling okay?" she asked the room, her voice quiet and slightly hoarse from a lack of fluids. She wasn't actually even sure if the others had woken up yet. Hopefully they had. She didn't want to suffer alone.

Cold, too cold, yet it is somehow comforting. Normally lucid dreams have turned to a fading slideshow of Technicolor and emotion, all of which crash against the shore of personhood like waves only to freeze solid, now a part of it, or at least an outer shell. This sedimentary buildup continued for what felt like days, sapping strength from the mind yet strengthening it at the same time. More and more of these feelings fell to the ground and buried the self, slowly crushing themselves into more compact and tight forms. The ego began to melt away only to be frozen solid once again, these new materials mixing with it. The firn built by the super-ego and the emotional turmoil was washed with a mixture of the now solid hard-shelled ego and the freezing temperature of the id, becoming what could only be called a glacier that cut its way through the landscape of the self. You are you. I am me. I am-

Crystal awoke, her eyes still shut. There was a throbbing sensation in her head and stomach, and she wished she had stayed asleep. Her muscles felt like back when she first started her martial training, sore beyond measure, though without the runner's high that she felt back then. She slowly turned her head to each side, noticing the IV inserted in her arm and the other girls resting in similar states as herself. It seemed as though Chie was trying to get up already. If she was in any state similar to what Crystal was in, that wasn't a good idea. She waited for her to realize that and to say something.

"Is... everyone feeling okay?"

"Not the greatest, no, but not the worst I've felt. I would recommend not trying to move around very much. We have no idea how intrusive the surgery was, or how our bodies will react to the Armagus..." Crystal swallowed weakly. "It seems we have a newcomer as well." was all she managed to say before her voice gave out and she closed her eyes to try to rest more, though she doubted she'd succeed.

Never did Rivka think something could be worse than a hospital, but the path that brought her towards destiny proved otherwise. Winding through level after level, deep underground past checkpoint after checkpoint was a single white, sterile room where she would be forged.

Dear God she hated it.

The doors closed behind her and something changed when they did. She felt it at once, a crawling feeling in her core that she had become something other than a person to her caretakers. That she was placing her life in the hands of people who had in that moment classified her as not a person but raw material; the ingot that could, if they did their job correctly, be crafted into a weapon. The critical component of a system known as an Ars Magi, the vessel that could produce a soldier. Through their hands passed her life, and though it was precious its value came from what she was. The quirk of genetics, or environment, or fate that let her use Nox without becoming like the creatures that had assailed her.

What came next was out of her hands. As soon as the sedative hit her bloodstream she was out, and anything that happened after that was beyond her awareness let alone her power. The needle slipped through her skin easily, with practiced precision secured in a single motion to her skin with an adhesive. The antibiotic came first and she had never known that her veins could burn from the inside. Her warning was curt and cursory from the anesthesiologist, and she could see at the edge of her vision her heart rate tick up on the machine that monitored her vitals. The white coats prepped the tools of their trade around her, gleaming in the cold light and she wished more than anything for company. Someone to speak to her, even about something mundane and foolish. To acknowledge her existence and provide the reassurance that she would still be herself when she awoke.

But they were as cold as the light when the sedative hit her system and seemed simply to switch her off.

---

Awareness felt like rebirth, a renewal born of will alone. Like pulling the disparate fragments of her being together again when she had feared, deep inside, that she might never wake again. Her own essence felt strange and unfamiliar, her hazy thoughts registering the return to her mortal form a step removed from the sensation as though her own frame was that of a stranger. She felt wrong, a revenant born from science and not from magic, helpless in her own body. In her mind’s eye she saw a monster with her face, sickly, corrupted eyes where her own should have been. Her breath caught in her throat.

And then it passed.

The next breath found its grip, air cold and sterile that felt still more refreshing than any before filled her lungs. Fear cleared not with chill but with warmth. A warmth that had settled into every fiber of her being, not burning like the IV before it but nourishing. As though every cell was refreshed, forged anew in the primordial fires of creation. At the center of it all, at her center, she could feel it. It drew her focus like gravity, a single point within her that seemed contained the same fire that had remade her into something… More. She was still Rivka Sokolov. But she was something else now, too, and curiosity blazed within her. The gem filled her mind, and she was tempted, so tempted, to feed it the fuel that would transform her again. The strength within her craved release, craved manifest so as to proclaim to the world that she had arrived. Make reality recognize the new strand that she had become, the new melody in its midst.

Her body ached, her mind struggled to free itself from the lingering fog, but she felt good. Better than ever. There was no fighting her elation, but she channeled it instead into testing her limits. Pushing her recovery. She moved her fingers first, then her toes, and slowly but surely she felt her dexterity returning. Not at her core, she would avoid undue strain until she was cleared. But her body responded to her without complaint, pushing against a fatigue that promised the sweet elation of victory when she emerged the stronger for her aches. But the most important came last. She began humming quietly, starting deep in her chest with the lowest reaches of her range and increasing in pitch with every passing second until she had worked through every register that she could reach. Then she began to test her volume, filling the still air with soft, unrefined melody that blended and changed as she labored to ensure nothing untoward had befallen her voice.

”I cannot complain about the anvil’s treatment, for how else might I be a sword?” She queried aloud at last, after the untold infinities that her ascension had taken. ”Though perhaps the smith's mercies might have been more tender.”

…

Ah. The painkillers hadn’t totally expired within her. Alas, no wonder she felt so poetic.

---

She sits.

Stable. Still. Solid.

Centered at the base of all, she sits quietly, letting Wind breathe through her, Water shape and caress her boundaries, Fire flow within her veins carrying Purity and Refinement. She knows of Time and Distance, cataloging both in innumerable measure to the scales of the meager life she nurtures. And so much life it is. The greenery, holding silent vigil where once awash with the roar of wildness, before the clouds of toxic ink shore and twisted it away. Those that crawled along the ground, dug within it, furtively living beneath the poison, too. And of course, the great Sancti of man— each and every last foot that pounded upon stone, upon steel, upon the walls that they had erected into and from her flesh, her essence shaped and extruded to protect them. She is surely aware of them, as they rise to her heights and desperately cling to what boons she could still give them, leveling all of their heart, their cunning, and their mulelike stubbornness against the shadows that veiled her.

How could she not feel her angriest sons and daughters fighting?

No, that's not right. Not hers... but nonetheless shared with her. How? Despite agreeing with the sentiment, she's no mother. She is her, obviously, and yet—

She is at the greatest height of the world, and at its deepest trench. Ever-present in both mountain peak and secluded, sealed cavern. It does not make sense to her thoughts when she tries for them, yet her mind understands it. A connection to all things, vast and so far beyond the reckoning of even the smartest among them, let alone someone as simple as she— yet for all she cannot name, define, or compartmentalize it, she can feel among that expanse in a way she had not when succumbing to those sterile white lanterns. Maybe it is her simplicity that allows for it.

A kinship. She and this primal essence have a kinship, her heart decides, unbidden by the brain's usual monologue. Both are solid, both are honest, both are centered within their world. They lend a weight to themselves, material and metaphysical, that stabilizes and serves as a foundation for all they take upon themselves, all they are surrounded by. She has tapped into something much akin to her, in personality, in temperament, in way of being.

Her and her new friend would probably get along great. Their strengths, together, could make a great change. To tap into something so vast in any respect made it seem a cinch in comparison. Would it be that easy? No. Definitely not, but this would always be there, always bolster her, always provide the bedrock upon which she could build her every dream into reality. She carried it within her as it carried her upon itself, just like all the others that breathed and walked.

Green eyes open, as the seated girl noticed this.

She found herself, as she sat, within the depths of an oak forest. At the back of her mind she could still feel the enormity she had toured, and a wave of wry amusement passed over her as she realized just how lost she'd gotten. To vibe with something so omnipresent as ..rth, one needed to spread their profile a bit— zoom out to get it all into frame. Finding a tiny little sapling again could get tricky, mhm, mhm.

But now she had drawn things back into square one, cognizant of her context. The songbird perched on her head was light as its feathers. The fox in the bushes, wandering across in search of good hunting, carried himself with such care and lightness of tread. The ancient trees, once acorns in yet older soil, breathed and drank and spoke with voices too slow and soft to hear. This was where she had been hiding away, then.

How nice...

But having pulled herself back together from that wide reach, Selma knows that this is soon to end.

Green eyes open, this time for real.

---

"Wuuuugh. No." She replied, frank as a girl ever could be, to the first words she heard. "I feel like I spent about three days at work without any sleep. Don't worry, Crystal, I don't wanna move."

Every muscle she knew how to use and some she didn't know were a thing felt tight, wound together into scouts' knots by the procedure, her body's reaction to whatever had been done. They felt less like meat and more like hardwood... maybe steel cable. That IV drip hadn't gone too far into the vein, had it?

Nah, that's not how that works, dummy.

Having been briefed on the general outline of the surgery ahead of time, she fought the urge to feel around her navel for the Armagus implanted within— twelve-cylinder Nox engine that, if she heard right, came in green. It felt like a weight within her gut, for certain. A heavy, cold stone that somehow... permeated her, now that she thought of it. Maybe that tautness wasn't entirely muscles needing a good hard stretch. She felt like shit, that much was certain. Barely thinking straight and sore for days, but beneath that?

Well, the word she couldn't get out of her head was sturdy. She felt, beneath the cloud of pain and haze of disjointed consciousness, that she could probably handle the workload she'd just bemoaned if she had to. Ars Magi, huh? They really were a cut above your average jane...

Her eyes, while contemplating this, slid over the other four, stuck in the same situation.

Not three.

Not three?

Chie Crystal Rivka Me Whoooooo is this one?

"Hey, where'd you come from? We don't know eachother yet, last I checked— I'm Selma."

Sturdy. Still. Stable. Solid. Not Subtle.

Introductions are made, and there’s an hour or so of time to kill under fluorescent lights before doctors return to check IVs and examine each candidate. Eventually, after a half-day of lying around, the girls are released from care and taken back to their dorms. The journey isn’t exactly pleasant, each having to get used to the aching pain and dizziness that comes as they readjust to moving on their own. There’s at least some relief once they make it to their dorm beds, a much more comfortable resting place than the hospital cots.

The next two days get better, but it comes slowly. The aches and nausea persist, as does the overwhelming lack of energy. The most offensive part of it all is that their Armagus seem, for the moment, entirely useless. No matter how much effort they make the small stones seem lifeless and dull, bereft of the magic that they were promised.

By the third day they begun to return to something resembling normal, just in time for the mission briefing in the assembly hall. A holographic map of the city is on display at the front of the room, slowly rotating under the touch of a uniform-clad woman at the front of the auditorium.

“The exercise will take place in the Palmyra Military Exercise Zone, or M.E.Z. There, under controlled conditions, your Armagus will be activated.” A pregnant pause, and the officer continues: “This activation will require the presence of a Void.”

Quiet whispers ripple through the crowd of assembled young women.

“We will be lowering the diffusion of Nox in the exercise area to a level sufficient for the manifestation of low-class Voids. Your Armagus, an anti-Void weapon, will respond accordingly. The exercise will be supervised by military personnel to mitigate the danger to yourselves, but I won’t lie to you: Any encounter with a Void has the potential for disaster.

This is your first real trial as an Ars Magi, prepare yourselves accordingly. Ignis aurum probat.”

---

“Three. Two. One...”

The voice is small and static-laced, a quiet buzz from the earpiece you’ve been equipped with.

“Now lowering diffusion level. Nox levels rising.”

You stand in the middle of an abandoned street, rows of empty buildings hemming in on all sides. This is Military Exercise Zone, an older part of the city abandoned and later reclaimed specifically for Imperium purposes. It’s a ghost town, not a single soul dwelling within. The only sign of movement are leaves blowing in the chilly afternoon air, dried and brown foliage that rustles quietly down along the narrow streets.

The candidates have been broken into groups of five, the girls finding themselves together once again. Your companions wait in an observation tower some ways behind the exercise area, observing you the same way you did them during their respective turns.

But now, it’s just you.

“Nox levels still rising.”

Something is wrong. It’s like static in your brain, gentle at first, growing louder as time goes by. Things begin to feel fuzzy and indistinct.

“Manifestation of Voids detected.”

They look similar to the thing that attacked the Laurus. Humanoid, impossibly thin, inky black, geometric patterns etched along the flesh. Black clouds of Nox roll off their bodies as they take shape, three in total, seeming to blur and twist into existence out of the air itself. Air that is becoming steadily thicker as small wisps of Nox begin to form.

They advance.

The static is worse now, the world around hazy and indistinct. Hard to focus.

And then you feel it. A single point of clarity, something bright and powerful just barely within the grasp of your consciousness. All you have to do is reach your mind out and take it.

All you have to do is change.

---

It was cruel to make her go first. To be the meterstick by which everyone else would be measured, to set the bar for the whole morning. It was an awful thing to go first. To set the curve.

How would anyone else ever measure up?

The headache was bothersome, though. The fog had only receded from Rivka’s brain that morning and in its absence her strength had begun to return. But now it redoubled, pressing in on the consciousness within her skull and prickling it with millions of tiny jolts. The pressure mounted, and mounted until she felt as though her skull might collapse. Then they came. Three figures, coalescing from nothing. Growing from the dark shadow of the world and imbued with malice and the thirst for destruction. They advanced, step by unnatural step, and her will flagged. She was again in that subway station, again the darkness was closing in, and again she faced opponents that she did not have the strength to match.

But maybe this time she did.

Such a small thread to grab, so distant her fingers might not even reach. It tickled her mind, hanging just beyond her mind’s eye. But it was there. She knew where, and the truth was she hated it. The ugly, dull lump of ill-fortune that weighed like an anchor at her core. There had been no sense of her ascension, no feeling of the power within her now that the anesthesia faded. It had been an object of utter contempt for two days, a knife in her back every time she beheld it. The Russian even took to keeping it covered, even when she slept, as though that might overcome its curse. It was bad luck. It was an affront to be given such a lifeless omen, a dark blasphemy that to her eye could have been nothing more than a lump of polished coal. The damned thing didn’t even work, and she had tried. No focus, no effort, no energy would prompt even a flicker of life in its depths.

Until this moment she thought for sure the operation had failed. Not out loud, but in the privacy of her deepest, darkest thoughts in the still of the night she had doubted. Not that she could pass this trial; she would have passed it even if it killed her, whether she could summon a single iota of magic or not. But that somehow they might have been wrong. That she would go home bearing nothing but an ill omen that she would never be free of. That she would face her family and tell them that she couldn’t do it, look her little cousins in the eye and tell them that she wouldn’t be a hero after all.

But here in this dead place, this void of life and cheer, with dead leaves crunching under her shoes she felt it. It extended a hand to her, offered her power if only she would take it and sang out with an angel’s voice to dispel the pain from her mind. A ringing, purifying melody that she could never pen if she labored a thousand days and a thousand nights.



And the prism within her exploded into light.

Rivka splayed her arms to the side, fingers outstretched, threw back her head and laughed. Power coursed through her veins, a perfectly triumphant symphony of sheer anticipation full of promise and potential. It spiraled to a tune that only she could hear, and in its face no monster could hold sway. It began at her core, now awakened to its true nature, and spread across her and within her. Her clothes gave way to her Parma, the attire that would be her armor. Strength filled her muscles, every sinew flashing with vigor and vitality, and a weight somehow familiar settled in her hand. Glasses settled on her face, tinting the world before her, and at last she felt complete.

Her chin dropped, eyes alighting on the interlopers that dared to sully her moment. She wasn’t done. A world had opened before her, and she would take her time to explore it like a new instrument. Another medium for her art. She would not be rushed.

The narrow street in front of her was engulfed in flames, a wall stretched from sidewalk to sidewalk. Whitehot, far too bright to be beheld by the naked eye for long. But she looked upon it without pain. The light glittered off her opalescent glasses, and sparked anew the blazing rainbow within the dark stone at her middle. Opal had once been believed to hold all the virtues of the gemstones whose hues filled its depths, and she understood for the first time. It had not been lifeless, only dormant. Waiting for the right moment to wake and fill her with invincible might. Within her she carried untold potential, and here, today, she would realize the merest fraction.

Her Gladius flipped around her fingers with greater dexterity than she could ever have dreamed, and its form brought a smile to her face. Its dark dyed surface drank in the light and only made its gleaming inlay shine all the brighter. Simple sights in perfect alignment and a gleaming bayonet, and a smooth, satisfying top break. It did not take rounds, not as such. But she understood. She was the gunner and the ammunition both. The wall died down with her arms still outstretched, gleaming eyes staring at the monsters that had scared her so much before.

“Listen to my song, gentlemen~?”

Her rifle snapped to position, sights aligned with her eye, and a thin lance of scarlet issued forth and speared the first Void where its heart should have been. It pierced and continued forth until it dissipated, its target already slain. She didn’t want it to be so simple. The faster she finished the better, yes, but she wanted to experiment. If only there were more enemies to face.

The rifle split just before the barrel, snapping open as though ejecting a casing but only steam wafted out. Rivka snapped it shut again and sighted as the second void set foot on the sooty line she had drawn on the asphalt, and this time she pulled the trigger twice. Aiming was effortless. She didn’t even think about compensating for the recoil; she just did it. The weapon had been made for her, from her, and it obeyed her perfectly. Both shots struck the monsters chest, rocking it back, and its body simply exploded. Vaporized, returned to the ether from whence it had come.

One remained. She could take it out as easily as the others, but…

Rivka bit her lip and a grin split her face from ear to ear. She slung her rifle over her shoulder, freeing her hands, and waited. She felt so strong, she had to see what she could do. Push her limits just a little. It charged at her without regard for the passing of its comrades and Rivka felt the last of her fear melt away. It crossed the line, building speed, and she gathered in her hand the hottest flame that she could manage. A ball of energy so hot and so bright that even through her glasses it burned as though she held a miniature sun. Hands flew for her throat, seeking to tear and destroy, and the Baetaerran stepped to the side; the first time her feet had left the ground since the Void appeared.

Its clumsy attack passed through the space she had occupied mere moments before, and she jammed a star on the verge of nova into its chest, blazing through its inhumanly thin body like tissue paper until it dissipated and left her standing at the heart of the dying light.

The artist dusted her hands, and took a deep bow before her unseen audience.

---

Well, it was over. The surgery was apparently a success, and Crystal had a blue gemstone to show for it. She sat about in her dorm as she thought of all the ways things could play out from here. Ever since her breakdown days before she'd been more conscious of her actions, and was far more reserved in them. What kind of future laid before her now? She tried to pull her magic from the gem inlaid in her navel but to no avail. It seemed like she wouldn't get an answer anytime soon.

The dawn of the third day had come and gone, and she had watched as Rivka stood alone in the streets, blazing with magic and power as she tore through two Void with her Gladius and one with her bare hands engulfed in magic. Now it was her turn, and she felt for the second time since meeting her schoolmates inadequate, unworthy to stand alongside them as an Ars Magi.

“Now lowering diffusion level. Nox levels rising.”

She could feel the gazes of her allies from the observation tower behind her. Most specifically, she wondered how Rivka saw her, now that she'd experienced the thrill of fighting with magic. Did she feel the same as the other girls did? Did she realize how impressive she had been when she was in Crystal's place? Crystal had never felt the need to outperform anyone but herself, but now... now she felt differently.

But that desire was slowly overcome by the rising tension and discord within her mind. She grasped her head in both hands and closed her eyes.

“Manifestation of Voids detected.”

There was a flicker of what could only be described as pressure in the environment as a Void formed, followed by another and another still. Crystal didn't need to open her eyes, she could feel their oppressive pressence. It was as if she was standing by a radiator in the middle of summer; heat and its haze surrounded her very being, enveloping her senses and bringing all of its force to bear against her soul. The world was spinning. It was simply too much, it was simply too hot, it was simply...

An illusion. Like a star bursting, a singular point of space within the universe of her mind lit up, only for that light to go out just as she tried to grasp it. And like a dying star it seemed to contract and bend in on itself as she finally managed to reach it, her touch bearing the key to its transformation.

Crystal did not hold within her a blazing supernova, as Rivka did. What she bore was not the brilliant lives of the stars, their fleeting final moments, nor their offspring that circled them endlessly in their attempt to emulate their parents. She did not have inside of her the unending void that would birth all of creation; she was not a vessel for the very fabric of existence itself and neither did she hold inside the forces which permeated all that there was or ever would be. It seemed that the whole of reality itself was not of her, in all of its entirety and glory. Rather, when she reached out to the light and felt it be snuffed out at her merest touch, she realized that it was not the journey of life that she was made of, but its inevitable demise. The demise of all things, the truest death of all: heat death. The frozen shell of what once was and would never be again. If one was not dead until warm and dead, then she would walk atop the River Styx itself, alive and well as she stood upon its frozen form and laugh at those who could not but fall through its surface.

Freeze over.

There was a soft and cold light for a moment which engulfed Crystal's form before fading into her body and revealing her once again, now clad in her Parma with her Gladius standing proudly next to her. The Voids had begun approaching her, the nearest ready to lunge.

She opened her now-blue eyes, and she saw the world finally for what it was. The unbearable heat she felt had subsided as it was forced to flee from her in fear. And now she was to be accosted by filth? Her hand struck the hilt of her sword, the force enough to make it slice through the ground it was standing in and fly into an arc. The as the blade approached her head, she moved her neck forwards and her left hand upwards to once again strike Hiems' (for what else would she call her manifested will?) hilt, making the flat of its blade dance along her arm. She turned her entire body as if entranced, her Gladius now spinning across its grip in only but a few orbits around her neck until she struck the sword with her right hand, transferring the spin onto her wrist before it finally found its rest with its unblemished grip held gently against her palm.

It took only a single swing to bisect the oncoming Void down its vertical center, ice instantly forming from where pearlescent blade met obsidian flesh, if it could even be called such. Crystal fought the urge to toss her sword between her hands; she had already learned all she needed of its weight from her performance. It was neigh weightless, the only heft it had was that which was needed to know that she was holding something and that which helped her swing. And swing she did as the second Void approached, this time slashing upwards to effortlessly cut through her foe. She could do better, she knew, but without practice she would not dare risk giving an enemy an opening simply to speed along the fight. So she held herself in place, waiting for the final enemy to attack.

'He who strikes first loses.' This simple phrase echoed through her mind as the final Void rushed towards her, and she held her Gladius out straight in front of her. There was a momentary lapse and it was over, her entire being having moved in an instant towards the Void, piercing its center mass as ice spread from the wound. Crystal slowly drew back her blade and the ice sculpture resembling a Void crumbled into diamond dust as Hiems' tip left it.

Finally, Crystal took a deep breath and smiled.

---

Beautiful.

Those two were beautiful. Elegant, poised, in total command of their Elementa and Gladii. More than wielders, more than users, Rivka and Crystal embodied their elements, the twin extremes of heat and cold— presence and absence of energy. They both tore through the Nox in front of them as if lifelong combatants against Mankind's Greatest Foe, leveling primal force onto the field with natural ease. They returned invigorated, staring down the door they had just opened within themselves into the great depths of power they now held. Changed, however minutely, by the light they bore within them.

When it came time to lower Selma into the proverbial ring, their words, glances and pats on the back couldn't even begin to hope to encourage her more than their performances had. In mere moments, she too would be ascendant. She would partake in the grandest honor of all— becoming a heroine to beat back the night. Rivka and Crystal now knew a jubilation only a precious few could ever hope to grasp. Magic made them so alive, even compared to that time three days ago in the tunnel, now feeling ages past.

As the brown, once orange, once green leaves softly crumpled beneath her feet, the tall girl fought an inescapable urge to fidget as the exercise began, nervous energy doubtlessly still bleeding through to the observers in that rower far away from this derelict of steel, concrete and glass. Whether or not they were looking at her expectantly, whether or not she could measure up to the ease they'd shown— what did it matter to her? This was the moment she had awaited since she first learned she was a candidate.

No two ways about this. It was purely hers.

She took a deep breath of crisp morning air, as for the first time her earpiece sounded.

“Now lowering diffusion level. Nox levels rising.”

At first, the most deciduous Ars Magi wrote it off as something in her ear. Maybe some small bit of pressure change going down the tower and into ground level mucking thing up, as the air sorted itself out.

"Nox levels still rising."

She soon realized she was deathly wrong, as it continued to build. First a stone, then a boulder, then a mountain, until finally it felt as though the world itself pressed upon her mind. A massive pressure, crushing all thought and focus to dust. she fought to simply breathe, her vision not going dark inasmuch as it went blank, form and contrast fading in and out as the poison assaulted her very essence. This was what lay outside the walls, she recognized for a fleeting moment. This Hell.

“Manifestation of Voids detected.”

"Urgh."

And these demons. Space felt fluctuated once, twice, thrice as Miss Rosmarie's eyes found themselves shut by a furrowed brow and the rare scowl, somehow further intensifying the sensation of her consciousness and awareness being squeezed dry of thought. She stood stock still, body fighting through the brain's unwiring to keep itself upright as the Voids began to slowly creep forward, toward their newly spotted prey. Each step wrenched the towel of her self further, each stride drawing more and more disparity, distinction, definition out of her.

This haze of wisps that once made a train of thought felt... a lot like that surgery she'd just recovered from. That dream. To be scattered by a power beyond humanity, wasn't it? Only this was a hostility rather than nature itself— corruption, not purity. The shadows of the world, blight that had swept nations and forced not just humanity, but life itself from the land. Diametric opposition to what she felt then.

Yet that contrast made it all the easier for her to find the escape rope back to self. Deep within her now was a great, lush center. That forest of oak, once again, atop that sturdy bedrock. A place for her soul to brace against, push back outward, and reach for that light buried deep within the soil. Deep within her, carrying that untold, unrivaled, ultimate liberating power.

---

---

The Voids pounced, and Selma stood in a field of Emerald.

Her clothes fell away to dust, as a ring of green tinged white exploded outward from the verdant gem in her navel, wreathing her statuesque form in a cloak of arcane power. Flecks of emerald scattered in its wake— not the Armagus itself, but formations of the magic it commanded. They swung into a tight orbit around her, one, two, three revolutions going by before descending to the earth beneath the field of light, as though tracing a circle of magic around their mistress.

The girl in white took a deep breath, and made a single heavy stomp upon the ground.

Instantly, the emeralds rose as though launched skyward, drawing level with the Armagus at her core and then splitting into twin rings that traversed outwards through her full height. In their passage, that blinding light that had so long concealed form gave way to sturdy leathers and hide, thick and tough browns supported by multitudes of straps that gave direction and frame to her uniquely rustic parma, one that looked for all the world to belong to some ancient warrior. As it settled onto her body, she felt the magic too settle within her, bolstering her bones, her muscles, her spirit. She felt strong, fast, fiercer than she ever dared dream. Elated and energized, as the upper ring passed her face and she could suddenly read the words of a dilapidated sign a hundred meters away, her eyes and hair almost aglow with the hue of brilliant green.

The gems broke off now, reorienting and coalescing around her shoulders, shins, and forearms, giving only momentary pause befrone slamming into her frame. Encasing her limbs, they shone brilliantly— and with the sound of splitting rubble, gave way to shaped metal plating, true armor that coursed with the magical protective force all Parma gave. Her newly gauntleted hand closed around a thin line of green, the last flecks left, as they melted into the shape of a sturdy, somehow intrinsically familiar axe. Her Gladius. She swung it once, twice, unable to control her grin at how right it felt despite its almost ostentatious size—

"HAH!"

And the third stopped the nearmost Void in its tracks, biting so very deep into its chest as blackened claws swiped desperately for her face, anything that would wipe off that girl with bared teeth from the face of the Earth. But it was to no avail. The next second, as the light of her ascendance had only just begun to fade, the Void found itself swung by that same wound, that same axe, straight off the ground in a giant arc around her.

"Ahahahaha! Woohoo!"

A deadly waltz, lead by laughter, mania, and entirely too much strength as it was summarily launched when it came back around, slamming into the Void behind it. Heedless of the sounds of crumpling obsidian evil as the first expired, or the great crash of them slamming into a conveniently placed skyscraper, Selma reached out and grasped for the last fading wisps of transformative luminescence. Something was missing. Just one last little thing...

Void, being constructs of Nox run rampant more than true life itself, did not experience any fear at the display. All it saw was a preoccupied enemy. It lunged for her midsection, lower than the previous two. Cunning enough to switch tactics? Savage enough to simply prefer disemboweling her to ripping her throat? Selma didn't know. It didn't matter.

Her hand finally came around one last ribbon that hung within the air, and she exploded into motion as she felt the Void's footfalls take it in close enough to enter her reach. She stamped her foot down once again, much like she first did three days ago when clumsily, so weakly and clumsily, tried to harness ambient Nox to work her Sonar. In retrospect, while it was fine for not being a magical warrior yet, it was so much for so little.

This time, there was a whole lot more she could do.

A sudden outcrop of stone, shaped like a pillar and long as she was tall, erupted into the Void's chin from beneath, halting its advance and knocking it skyward. She swung her newly obtained thread of sunbeam, of light, towards the suspended devil made manifest, the alabaster glow finally giving way to a long, warm, sturdy ribbon of white fabric. One that wrapped around the Void's ankle and pulled taut, as Selma ripped it through the air in a meteoric arc hurtling down towards the pavement without any escape from the splat at the end.

Her improvised flail cracked the pavement, the jagged geometries etched into its skin smashing beyond recognition as its wispy frame was pulverised by the impact. If it were not the face of the evil that had taken their homelands from them, Selma might have even pitied the hopeless bastard...

The final void, shoving its faded compatriot off of its body, had nearly dug itself free from the rubble of the building's (former) west wall. Her little brother of a Gladius at its side, it just needed to get a larger section of concrete off of its back.

Might.

She spun to face it again and threw the bolt of white cloth over her shoulder, Parma finally feeling right with a scarf 'round her neck. Ah, the missing little link made it all click into place— she even had an idea about how to help the last of her three "friends" with his problem! All it took was going back to her roots, just a little bit! Back to horsing around!

She broke into a run, feeling for all the world to be on the moon as her strides chewed up distance with superhuman speed, culminating in a Herculean leap skyward that took her a good dozen feet into the void above the struggling nox golem. For a moment, she was singularly out of her element, with no connection to the stable ground beneath her feet or sturdy rock to support herself on. In her inexperience, there was a small chance she'd even tricked herself into vulnerability, were this a real battle and not wholesale slaughter.

"AHAHAHAHA, COMING DOWN FROM THE TOP ROPE, ARSCHGEIGE! WELCOME TO HELL IN A SELMA!"

And then she plummeted back home, body falling in behind the armor clad point of her elbow, in what she would quite proudly put forth as the greatest candidate the Academy had ever seen for "The Drop Heard Round the World". At the very least, there wasn't a chance on Earth it wouldn't be today's best.

An almighty crash filled the air as the emerald thunderbolt impacted the mass of concrete, and the Nox beneath learned the meaning of being stuck between The Rock and A Hard Place. The section of manmade stone that had before so troubled it gave way beneath her armor and bone, rattling her skeleton where it would once be rendered powder. The force of the drop, the weight of the structure's two halves suddenly coaxing downward, pushed the Void's spindly frame past its limits, whatever pseudoskeleton holding it together snapping beneath the load. It reached out one last time, dumb instinct or programming or what-have-you still trying to free itself.

And its last moments were, of course, dictated by the weight and splitting edge of Kleinbruder, freeing it of its head. No more worries about being stuck under something, right? Now he could join his friends, back in the nothingness that had birthed them. Happy end for everyone!

The dust began to settle around her, and at it's epicenter, the young conifer sat on her haunches, perched atop the rubble as though enthroned.

Awash with the rush of combat, of glorious victory, of seeing the new horizons of possibilities and potential before her, Selma threw her head back and laughed yet again, ringing peals of joy echoing throughout the once-quiet streets.

Chie observed, as was in her nature. She watched each other candidate- Rivka, Crystal and Selma- perform feats beyond her. 'How?' she thought. 'How does it come so naturally to them?'

Chie had her arms crossed from the start, her face neutral as she kept her gaze fixated on the trials. Even so, if an attentive eye looked her way it'd notice Chie squeezing her arm every-so-often in the middle of the team's performances. Each of them positively shined as they dispatched their enemies effortlessly. Chie doubted she could do the same; up to now, the other three had been looking out for her. She didn't- couldn't do much on her own. Today, though, she was going to have to prove herself. Prove herself to Rivka and Crystal, standing not far from her, the three of them observing Selma's rampage down below. 'Selma looks like she's having fun...' Chie continued being lost in thought. She glanced to her side. 'Crystal and Rivka too. All of them enjoyed themselves...'

Selma didn't take long to finish up. The shockwave of Selma's axe crashing down on the last remaining enemy gave birth to a loud crash that could be heard even within the safe confines of their observational window. Whoever was on the other end of that earpiece she worse must not have had a fun time with that.

The living mountain of a girl returned to the group soon after her display. Naturally she'd already transformed back to her usual self. Selma was in high spirits; It's no surprise after the showing she gave. "That was amazing, Selma!" Chie complimented her, much the same she'd complimented the other two. A few more superficial pleasantries escaped her lips. It wasn't like Chie didn't feel happy for Selma, but she couldn't muster much more than shallow words of praise. Chie was full of doubts about herself, ever as she had been, and it affected even her ability to be truly happy for others. Even if she should be overjoyed her friends are doing so well, the envy in her heart had taken deep roots. Chie couldn't think about it for too long; after all, her name was called not long after Selma's return. "Yes, I'll be right there!" the girl replied, hurrying off towards the designated practice location. Chie heard her fellow candidates encourage her. The words didn't truly register, though.

She didn't have the time to appreciate their feelings.

The air was thick at Chie's spot. Even before the Nox levels were lowered for her, she could feel its oppressive aura. Maybe it was some remaining pollution of the previous trials, maybe it was her nerves. Either way, only one thing mattered: this intense pressure. It made her feel miserable and sick, much like the surgery had done to her. Something buzzed in her earpiece. "Three. Two. One..."

It was beginning. The floodgates were opened ever-so-gently, to let the ambient dark creep in. Every little bit of Nox that reached Chie came paired with a haze that filled her head. The city-scape had already been ruined, even moreso after Selma's display, but her nox-addled mind turned the devastated imagery into a more desolate and pitiable sight than it had been before. Chie grit her teeth and clutched her head with one hand.

'Endure it.'

Dark creatures formed from masses of corruption swirling around in the area. Sharp pains shot through Chie's entire body.

'Endure it...'

Chie peered at her enemies through her fingers. They looked human, too human for her liking. Before she thought they were terrorists, but now she knows they're just monsters. It's fine. She didn't need to be scared of them anymore. The prospective Ars Magi's body started to shake. Her breathing became ragged, she could feel the sweat forming on her skin. One of the monsters saw their chance to strike upon witnessing Chie's damaged form.

'ENDURE IT!'

---

---

Chie's armagus reacted in the nick of time to save her skin. It shone- as they do- with a light bright enough to stun even the mindless automaton which tried to dig its claws into Chie. She could feel the corruption being changed- reshaped- into something entirely new. It wrapped around her head, fingers, legs, chest... Chie didn't have time to admire herself, but she knew something had changed about her. Unfortunately, as brief as her transformation was, the nox creatures weren't thrown off for long either. Chie jumped back, just barely fast enough to dodge a claw of the front-most one. Well, those were different at least. The ones from before had normal hands, but these monsters were built to kill. Their figures were more slender with claws long enough to reach halfway down to the floor. These were built to kill.

Unfortunately, it wasn't alone. Two- no, three more of the same creature had formed around Chie. God only knows if any appeared where she couldn't see them. The situation was unbelievably bad, despite being able to think with a much larger degree of clarity now that the fuzz in her head was gotten rid of. 'What do I do?!' Chie thought to herself, mildly panicked, as she continued to just barely scrape by the attacks coming from multiple directions. She hadn't even summoned her Gladius yet- not that she knew how- to strike back at them with. Fight or flight kicked in full-force. Chie was surrounded and needed to get out of there first before doing or even thinking of anything else. She made a dash straight for one of the creatures. Moving her body sideways, she narrowly avoided what would otherwise have been a really nasty strike. Then-

*SLAP*

...the palm of her hand made contact with the creature's face, stunning it as she took her chance to dash past it. Of course, the others were still hot on her heels, but at least they were behind instead of in front of her now.

'Think of something! Think of something!'

Chie tried to feel the nox around her, letting it envelop her being as she siphoned it through her armagus. She couldn't keep running, yet she stockpiled and stockpiled until...

"STOP!"

...she released it in one big burst, creating a strong field of gravity to pin her and the creatures both to the ground. She couldn't keep on her two legs, going down on her knees from the sheer force of what she'd created, but at least now Chie had a little time. Powering through it, Chie tried to gather the nox around her again. She managed to pry her two hands off the ground for long enough to let it collect in their palms, gaining a new shape. Two chakrams, one for each hand. Their sharp edges didn't dig into Chie's skin, which was a good thing, because the pair had no handle to grip. She was hoping for something a little more, well, conventional, but at this point the girl was glad to have anything to fight back with at all. The creatures of nox were slowly rising onto their feet, fighting through Chie's field, so it was time to go on the offense. "Release!"

As soon as the force dispersed, Chie jumped back and tossed out one of her new toys. Her aim was clumsy, but the surprise timing caught one of the four creatures off-guard for long enough to not be able to dodge the strike. The weapon sliced clean into its side, not enough for a mortal wound, but it brought it back down to its knees. She could worry about finishing it off later; the other three had to be neutralized first. The chakram she tossed out didn't keep going in the direction it was thrown in but instead pulled to the side and then back to Chie.

'A boomerang effect!'

Chie caught her chakram on its return. She defensively held them in front of her, parrying one of the creatures' lunge through dumb luck. She took the opportunity to slice it at close-range, putting enough force behind her strike to finish it off in one blow. The monster recoiled in pain and dispersed into thin air. 'They're weak! I can do this!' Chie thought to herself, the girl's confidence surging. She dashed away again, focusing. She gathered nox to create a singular point ahead of her with lowered gravity. She dashed for it, desperately, and the moment she reached her goal, kicked off the ground in an attempted backflip. The lowered resistance helped her to get airborne. Her stunt was dumb, reckless and unpractised. Despite that, whether it was through luck or the power gained from her transformation, Chie managed to control herself mid-air well enough to toss her two weapons behind her. They spun around, digging into and killing yet another assailant, as Chie started to go in freefall behind the other one.

'...No! Damnit!'

Unfortunately, not having a natural talent for acrobatics, Chie couldn't quite manage to stick the landing. Instead of coming down clean on her feet, Chie had overshot her jump and slammed onto the street with her back. The two chakrams dug into the pavement next to the candidate magi, one to each side. Desperately, Chie pushed herself somewhat straight with one of her arms. She quickly threw out the other, free arm in front of her. The remaining nox creature attempted to lunge at her, but the girl was quick enough to create another focused point of increased gravity right before it managed to reach. Using so much of the same, unpracticed magic in such short intervals was mildly exhausting, but Chie didn't have another option to choose from. The humanoid slammed into the floor before it could reach Chie. It tried to push itself off, making some progress initially, but Chie kept increasing the pressure. She felt herself starting to be pulled into the centre as the point became heavier and started to exert its influence. The creature's figure snapped against the stone, being unable to move as cracks formed underneath it. The monster couldn't muster the strength needed to break free anymore.

"And... stay down!" Chie said, clenching her fist. The nox creature's body dispersed into thin air, unable to withstand the sheer force it had been pressed down into the pavement with. Chie slowly undid her handiwork, gradually reversing the effect of the gravity field. As she did, she breathed a sigh of relief. 'I did it...' she thought to herself, letting her body relax.

Then she felt a sharp pain shoot through her back.

"AAUGH!" she screamed out, instinctively grabbing one of her chakrams and rolling forward. Her now-hazy eyes looked back, seeing the first creature she had injured towering over her. Even though it was limping, its claws were dripping with her blood. Chie weakly tossed her chakram at it, the effort enough to slice clean through and disperse the adversary into thin air. Chie got to her feet, albeit unsteadily and held herself as she breathed heavily.

"It hurts...!" she complained to herself. She stretched her arm a little, just barely managing to reach the wound with the tips of her fingers. It stung, obviously, and when she pulled her hand back she saw red. Argh, she was such a mess! Why couldn't Chie do anything right? The other three must think her to be pathetic. She had to transform and hurry back to get it treated. She didn't know how long she was going to be able to keep upright with a nasty gash in her back.

One by one each Void falls, either to burning heat, biting cold, crushing earth, or cutting steel. All are reduced to darkness, returning to the fog that blankets the streets and alleyways of the broken-down district. Rivka, Crystal, and Selma all are allowed to make their return to the tower to watch the next candidate, and all can see Chie’s victory and injury from the windows of the observation area.

“Masuzu,” Comes the voice in Chie’s ear. “Re--“

The rest of the order never comes. Inside of the tower the consoles light up in rows of red, their displays flashing with information. A voice is raised in sudden alarm:

“Nox levels are spiking! Something is--”



Anything else is swallowed up in the detonation that follows. Glass and concrete explode inward as one of the tower’s corners abruptly vanishes, crumbing under the concussive force of some outside influence. The force of it reverberates violently through what’s left of the room, hurling both officers and the three Ars Magi inside off their feet.

Chie can hear the noise from the street below, and when she turns back she can see the extent of the damage: A chunk of the observation room is split open, a visible hole having appeared in the wall. When the girls inside regain their footing they can see the same from a much closer view, an empty space where a wall once stood.

The source of the blast isn’t immediately obvious, not until one of the operators calls it out. Both Chie and the girls in the tower can see it: A little more than a hundred feet away, perched on the top of a half-collapsed rooftop, is a Void.

It’s taller than the others, perhaps seven feet, still almost humanoid in shape. Strange tendrils emerge from its ink-black head and pulsing red lines can be seen on its outline even in the afternoon light. From its torso stretch a pair of dark elongated arms, and between its oversized hands the Void has conjured a roiling cloud of Nox that it weaves into a basketball sized sphere of solid black matter.

A sphere that, once complete, launches with explosive force toward the top of the observation tower. Each of the newly minted Ars Magi can see it coming, traveling toward the group above ground at alarming speed.

---

Safely ensconced within the observation tower Rivka beheld the debut of her fellow stars to be, observing with a widening smile as they tested their new abilities. She felt their elation as if it was her own, an echo of her own revelry, and they did well. Crystal went next, and there was no trace of the anxiety she had felt so badly only a few days prior. No tremble, no fear, only a confidence to match the surety of entropy itself. She was poised, she was controlled, and against her the Void had not the chance of the ice they had become in Hell. If Crystal was grace, then Selma was passion. The towering girl may not have had the clear formal training of her precursor but she more than made up for it with an energy and a vigor that could not be matched. She was the force of tectonic plates, primordial forces deep within the Earth that had erupted in the form of a Germanic farm girl. She laughed when she shouted, and within her she felt a glimmer of pity for even the Void that had suffered so at the point of her elbow.

But Chie…

At last her lips curled downwards into a frown, the building crescendo of her mood… Lost. A symphony should have a powerful finale. Not loud, necessarily, but fitting for the piece and this simply wasn’t. It wasn’t her fear. The girl had been afraid before she ever set foot in the testing area but she had faced it and become what she could be, if without the joy the others had felt. Facing such terror was difficult and for that she had Rivka’s respect. Nor was it for her technique, for there was nothing wrong with being an amateur. She had none of the experience that she possessed, nor that of Crystal or Selma. To be an amateur was a necessary beginning. In this, as in all things.

And yet she felt dissatisfied. This was their test. The first of many, but the final proof of their worthiness to be an Ars Magi. These foes were barely more powerful than what they had collectively faced down only days before, creatures they had humbled with soul and will when they were but mortal. Why did she not fight? With the merest application of her magic, with only what she had demonstrated during their flight from the station, she could end this. Faster than her peers could have. With the force at her fingertips now it should have been easy. And then the last strike; she had opened her mouth to warn her, but she was too slow. Not that it would have mattered from so far away, or behind the observation tower windows. There was nothing Rivka could do, the operator was about to call for a med-

The room shattered in sound and fury for the second time in a week, and Rivka again became closely acquainted with an ugly, dingy concrete floor. At least this attack was quieter; her ears rang, but not nearly as bad as badly as before. What a strange thing to say. But it was true, so whatever struck them must have been different from in the subway. Such thoughts were fleeting. More important than the difference was the simple commonality; they were under attack.

The artist pushed herself to her hands and knees, from there to a proper stance, and as she did she reached once more for her power. It was clearer this time. The prismatic melody at her center, sublimely energetic, did not have to extend to her a hand. The connection had been made, her core awakened, and it would never fall silent until the last note left her lungs. The purple light exploded from her center and wreathed her form in blinding intensity, replacing mere cloth with her Parma as it went and infusing her with that raw power once again. When it cleared, the barest fraction of a second later, Rivka was ready to face Hell itself.

And Hell had come, this time in smoother, sleeker guise. Did it mean to beguile her? Surely Hell didn’t think her that simple. It was thirty meters away to her eye, give or take. Her shortest range pistol competitions were at twenty five meters, and her rifle targets a good bit farther than that. It was, suffice to say, not a difficult shot. More concerning was the attack that it had begun to charge again already. She was good, but she wasn’t about to take her chances trying to shoot down an object traveling at attack speed. Nor was she going to be any good at playing defense; any fire hot enough to interdict the strike would only serve to cook everyone in the confined space. No, she was not here to play goalie. She was here to dance with intricate precision against this foe, to engage and destroy with the utmost grace and discrimination. But how to get out of the way? It would take too long to climb down and find a new perch, especially when so many lovely elevated firing positions surrounded her.

Well, there was no reason she had to use the ground, was there? The next building was just over there. Rivka bit her lip, thinking for only the briefest second. If she considered it she might decide against it and where was the fun in that? She backed up a scant few paces and ran forward, pushing off of the ground, placing her next step on Selma’s back as the girl began to rise, and pushed off again with all of the strength in her invigorated muscles.

”An encore already? If you insist~!”

Her parabola was too sharp, she knew that already. She would drop shy of the rooftop she targeted, and while she would probably survive she doubted it would be uninjured. Their strength had already been reduced to a scant sixty percent of what it should have been, how would they ever cope without her? Who else would make up that extra forty percent but Rivka Sokolov? No, no, that wouldn’t do. But she already had an idea, a marvelous idea. Focusing that magic she had played with before, she funneled the flame down. Rockets had climbed to the heavens on such pillars long ago, so what was the difference? Even a gun worked on the same principle, both were merely combustion forced through a focusing cylinder. It wasn’t designed for the purpose but her skirt was much the same shape. The Baeterraen rode that explosion through the air, laughing gleefully at the top of her lungs all the way. True flight was beyond her, for now, but a raw impetus of force? That was easy.

She landed hard and rolled with a dexterity she would never have expected to recover, popping again to her firing position on a single knee and sighted on her target. The basketball sized orb had begun to fly just after she jumped, and she was glad she didn’t try to shoot it down. But the audacious bitch that tried to ruin her debut? She was a simpler target.

Rivka sang out happily and squeezed the trigger twice in quick succession, sending two piercing shots towards its center mass before breaking the rifle to release and refuel.

Chie was... unsure of how to transform back. Her pain-addled mind did her no favors in figuring this out, of course, but it wasn't just that which was the problem. The Nox in the air was still so... thick, even though she wasn't aware of any other voids that spawned. It made it hard to focus. The raw power running through her armagus wouldn't let her become normal again. Chie's earpiece buzzed to life as she pondered it.

“Masuzu, re--“ a voice came through, but the sentence was left unfinished.
"Operator?" Chie tried to answer back. No reply came. Something was wrong, she was sure of it. A queasy feeling washed over the girl. No matter how much she looked around her, though, she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. The only thing there was this invisible miasma tickling Chie's skin.

And then the explosion happened.

"Nh-!" the ars-magi-in-training grunted in surprise as she shielded herself from the wind displacement. She hurriedly looked up to the source of the explosion, finding a fancy new hole in the tower awaiting her gaze. After a brief moment of shock and dread, Chie came to her senses and tried to say something through the earpiece: "Operator, is everyone-" she begun to ask, but froze up when she realised static was coming from the other side. "No..." she hushed to herself in a quiet voice. Chie looked around, trying to find anything that could've caused that shockwave, only to see a shadow in the sky diving past her and into the opening. Panicked, shaking in her boots, Chie had to think of something. She had to hurry. This was her fault, she must've missed one of them. One that was a lot more powerful if it could do that. She needed to fix her mistakes before it was too late.

But when Chie took a step forward, the sharp pain in her back shot through her again. The void's mark was still ailing her. She grit her teeth and ignored it. She was wounded, it hurt, but she could still move. Just like Calcaria, the girl's mistake had caused problems for the other three. She had to hurry back and fix it. Chie took a pained step, then another. Before she knew it, she managed to push through the pain well enough for to be running back. The ars magi felt light on her feet. Chie didn't notice it before, but even a mild jog was much faster than any sprint she'd accomplished before that point. It bolstered her confidence. If she could move like this in the state she was in, then the other three should've been able to hold their ground, too.

"Everyone, please be safe...!"

---

Rivka Sokolov, cloaked in parma and supercharged by arcane energies well past the limits of any mortal woman, was as a demigod as her leap carried her high into the air, a steep arc launched into with all the force she could muster. Much as Chie's jog carried her quicker than her former sprints, Rivka's great spring was enough to nearly carry her to the height of the rooftops even before her pyrotechnic propulsion saw her through the rest of the journey. Force enough to send a girl flying like that was bound to make for a hell of a reminder regarding Newton's Third—

And yet her erstwhile springboard, once again awash with green-tinged white, barely budged. Sheesh. Could have asked. What if she had been Crystal, instead of her?

"Hey Crystal? You noticing a pattern here, or is it just me?"

For the second time in a week, Selma Rosmarie found herself rising to her feet in the wake of some form of catastrophic demolition, shaking the keening whine from her ears and tossing mossy locks to and fro in the process. Talk about a head start on their peers— at this rate, they'd all be aces when they rolled up to whatever inevitable "think on your feet when something goes wrong" lesson lay ahead of them. Oh man, what if her first official deployment started with an explosion to the face, too? Better hope she wasn't imagining this one being less bad, and that Rivka's painkillers were onto something when they had her ramble about "just build up a tolerance to bigger explosions by working your way up from smaller ones" two days ago...

Okay, dummy. Get to work.

Her head snapped upwards as she hopped to her feet, base carrying itself back under her in a motion honed by years of impromptu bouts of ringen, and zeroed in on the two most prominent threats she could find— Namely, the seven foot spindle of darkness looming over them some thirty meters away and its projectile, a sphere of black ink condensed from poisonous cloud of curse. The latter hurtled towards them faster than any would have liked, and with Rivka perched atop a ruined high-rise, that left Selma as the forefront vanguard. The first line of defense. She had no idea what shape the other two girls were in. Crystal sounded like she was readjusting as well, and at the very least nearby. She could feel motion carrying through the floor well enough to feel right in guessing such.

But Chie, poor wounded Chie, she had no idea. She should have still been transformed, and her commanded element was definitely a doozy, but... the young ent still had to worry, just a bit. If nothing else, she was certainly the worst for wear.

But if worry was all she could do for her right now, then she had better stick that energy somewhere productive.

First things first— Whatever that thing flying at them was had to be bad news. If her guess was right, one of those being launched was how this stretched out lady-of-the-night had blown a hole into the wall they'd been facing. She needed to knock it out of the sky before it got close!

Scanning the room, she quickly spotted a few larger chucks of rubble from the blast— one the size of her head, the other two roughly two-thirds of that. She didn't have the propulsion to jump across and attack the thing directly, nor could she seal this place up with more stone— it'd only explode again.

So, she saw one option. Rivka may have had the right sport, but her position was all wrong.

Just think of Brazil. Think of 7-1. You got this, fraulein. Nothin' TO IT!

And with a whip of her long, muscular legs, her boot slammed into the largest stone, sending it flying into the path of the orb simultaneous to the mighty CRACK of Rivka's rifle. Two more thuds a moment heralded the twin concrete streaks that zipped outward from the observation tower, this time aimed towards the Void less than half a field away.

They didn't need no damned goalie. They had a striker.

---

Crystal was knocked off her feet by the explosion, ending up against the wall opposite the newly formed hole. In the moment it took to regain her senses and her footing Rivka had already transformed and jumped off Selma's back to fight.

"Hey Crystal? You noticing a pattern here, or is it just me?"

Crystal gave a small smile to that, but quickly shifted her focus when Selma threw a large chunk of rubble out of the hole in the building. Which told her all she needed to know, that something was shooting at them from there. She transformed as well and took stock of the situation, walking up behind Selma to see what she saw. There was a Void there, yes, and Rivka on another building ready to shoot it. But what else? Chie seemed to be making her way back, and the officers who were with them in the room were down for the count, hopefully still alive. Crystal knew that she wouldn't be any help unless she got close, so instead she chose the other option, namely getting non-Ars Magi to safety. She picked up the nearest officer and slung them over her shoulders before shouting behind her.

"Cover me, Selma! I'm going to get these two out of here!"

She began her way down as quickly as she could before coming back up for the other officer.

"Selma, it might be more strategically viable for us to get out of here, but if you want to stay, I won't force you. I'm going to be at ground level with these two to keep them safe, so if you stay here, good luck."

Having said that, Crystal took the second officer down to the base of the tower as well. When she arrived, she carefully looked around the corner, but without the height the tower gave, she couldn't see the enemy. Still, she was on guard and ready to move if there was any movement from where she remembered the Void being.

The chunk of concrete that Selma launches skyward intercepts the ball of darkness racing toward the tower with a spectacular detonation. The concussive force released when the two meet is visible in the air, a distorted plume of darkness as the stone is erased from existence. The tower, for the moment, is safe.

It affords Crystal time to start hauling wounded soldiers down to the bottom of the structure, the operators likewise making a hasty exit after giving the order to evacuate. The husk of the observation room is soon cleared out, flickering monitors and beeping displays left behind as the crew moves to the street below.

And while she does Rivka takes up position, two sharps cracks of her rifle echoing out in the wake of the earlier detonation. The first red streak connects with the tall Void’s center mass, and the second with the arm half-raised to defend itself. The force of those two impacts are enough to sheer the spindly creature near in half; it’s right arm and shoulder are torn from its body in a splatter of black mist, vanishing abruptly into thin air.

The second volley, Selma’s next round of debris, is less destructive. Still, the makeshift projectiles find their mark with enough force to send the Void flying. It tumbles backward, vanishing over the side of the building.

It’s not immediately clear if the monster is gone, but the answer comes soon enough. It’s only a minute later that the Void appears on the street below, lurching into view of the Crystal, Chie, and the officers gathered at the base of the tower. The empty space where it used to have an arm has already regrown a vestigial sort of appendage, a long and whip-like span of darkness that’s swiftly growing back into the long limb it possessed before.

The more intact of the two appendages is raised toward the group of soldiers and Ars Magi across the street, and this time it conjures more than one of those explosive spheres. They come in a volley of three, each launched at alarming speed across the intervening space and toward the small cluster of individuals in front of the tower.

The Void’s hand rises again to begin conjuring more in their wake, another two spheres half-formed in front of it before something--someone--stops it.

The first girl emerges like a blonde bolt of lighting, leaping into sight from an alleyway near the Void. Electricity crackles around her metal-clad fingers, discharging in a brilliant flash of light when her fist slams into the explosive-hurling foe. The force of the blow is enough to take the Void off its feet, it’s tall frame tumbling across the street.

It comes to a stop a few feet away before it begins to rise once again, pushing itself to its feet.

“Aoife!” Calls the lightning Ars Magi, “Go!”

---

Had you asked Aoife Sturmgaard one week ago how she felt about active combat against a Void, she'd have fumbled over some optimistic verbiage before landing on something to the effect of 'we'll do our best'. She was an extrovert, charismatic, quick on her feet. Some had called her a natural born leader. However, one knows when they are outclassed and the human knowledge of mortality was a damning one. Yet, as she and another Ars Magi made their way to the Palmyra Military Exercise Zone her heart was thrumming in anticipation. She wanted to speak to the blonde lightning user beside her, but her mind couldn't focus on words or niceties. It thought only of combat, about winning.

She had to steady herself as she was nearly bowled over by a sudden tremor beneath her feet as a shockwave erupted past her and Noel. the unnerving sound of concrete shorn from structures and glass being pulverized through sheer velocity rung loudly in the freshly minted Ars Magi's ears. She felt a sensation creep from her fingertips across her spine, but it was not fear nor a flight response from her body. It may've been just a week ago, but now, something had irrevocably changed in her. This gem that had been housed within her. She could feel it pulse in time with her heart. Aoife looked to the girl to her right, one arm steadying herself against the alleyway.

They made it to the exit and began to witness the beginning of what would likely be a short conflict, no matter the victor. She laid eyes on it, finally. This was C-Class. The Void bore a slender figure, so seemingly fragile that it caused Aoife's blood to boil in anger. It should be easy to crush it, to snap it, to sunder the beast.

The Void generated a black sphere no larger than a basketball, condensed in a way that made it look like a star before its capitulation to oblivion. It launched a volley of them upwards towards the observation tower that it was facing. Aoife braced herself for their impact, but not fast enough. A verdant-haired maiden of imposing stature loosed a slab of concrete with a single kick colliding with the ball and brilliantly erupting. The sound of the eruption itself marveled Aoife, it excited her. Two more cracks rung out not a moment later and erupted into another volley of these projectiles before Aoife was even able to parse their existence. Lilac light burst from the sky as another explosion carried a girl further, to the roof of a different building before disappearing past its lip. Two cracks followed and the Void stumbled backwards, barely catching itself.

The blonde opened her mouth to say something, an excuse to be sure. "It's alright, I feel it too." It was all Aoife could do to hear her own voice over the blood and adrenaline pounding in her ears. Noel nodded to her and leapt, a burst of electricity lapping at her heels as she did. Aoife marveled at the girl, firing herself like a bullet from a gun, she impacted hard against the creature, knocking it further off balance as it begun to reel back toward her.

---

Time slowed to a crawl as the girl heard her name echo across the desolate city-scape, into the ears of the other Ars Magi. For the first time since becoming an Ars Magi, Aoife felt purpose clarify, and intent crystallize unto her soul. She felt her body pulled towards the void, being spurred on and catching glances from each of the other girls. This was her chance to prove who she was, that when she arrived on the battlefield, the tide would change.

Aoife closed her eyes as he legs continued to carry her forward. She stretched her arms out towards the void, feeling the pull of the tide in the pit of her stomach. She could feel the cosmic ocean this planet was adrift in all around her. Her ears filled with the sounds of the tide as she leapt into the air, gracefully caught by water she conjured around her. The water bore with it the stars themselves under its waves as it spiraled around her waist lifting her further and further into the air. But this impressive show of force was unnecessary. Aoife's hand glided across the water by her waist, plucking a strand of it like a seamstress would a thread. The thin chord of pure water danced along her fingertips as she continued to climb. The water playfully danced around her as she finally found it.

There you are. For the briefest moment she felt as though the Armagus implanted within her resonated with her, as if it acknowledged her intent.

Aoife's eyes slowly opened, meeting the void before her with the gaze of a conqueror. "Fear me, fiend." Her words were nearly silent, but the look on her face spoke volumes. Her visage filled with ire that would put the fear of the divine upon a mortal. She bore her gladius in one hand, a brilliant silver blade with an azure ribbon dangling and dancing with the water below her. She continued to rise, and would until she could take her rightful seat upon the heavens. But, for now, that creature mocked her and her fellow Ars Magi by still standing. She could feel the pride and divine right coursing through her veins, it might've worried Aoife, had she not been so singularly focused.

The water she contorted into a singular thread spun violently into itself, condensing into a jet stream with enough pressure to carve a diamond. She could feel its power radiate through her hand and up her torso, releasing at the base of her neck. It gave her chills. She felt as though she had become the very waves that crushed sailors against the cliffs. Aoife couldn't help but smile with glee at what she was about to do.

Her fingers danced in a brief formation for only an instant before the thread of water that she'd pulled from the typhoon propping her up lanced outwards like a whip toward the creature, striking with a crack as she aimed it to land a blow on its knee. "Creature," this time she spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. "We are the Ars Magi. Kneel."

---

The silence in the wake of the cacophony that had only moments prior filled the air, were it not for the lonely howl of wind, would have been deafening. Selma, standing alone overlooking the battle, took a moment to fold her arms and listen, searching with newfound acuity in the auditory realm. Four burst of thunder had just sounded moments prior as she and Rivka had launched their respective projectiles the way of the spindly aggressor, lances of light from her lilac compadre rending it nearly in twain before her stones clobbered it right off the side of the building.

Normally, anything with holes the size of her head straight through its body would be more than taken out by such a sequence, but this was a Void— if they were that simple to take care of, people like the Ars Magi wouldn't be needed. People like them, now, actually. Woah.

So, in the aftermath of all that commotion, Selma listened hard. Chie and Crystal were down there, as were many of the operators the latter had set to evacuating. They might not have been out of the woods yet... and while those two could handle themselves, technically every bit as qualified (or not exactly qualified, more accurately) as she was, she didn't wanna leave her business unfinished if it quite literally fell onto their plates. She strained her strengthened senses, searching for the telltale signs that she was needed on the ground below. Far below. How the hell would she get down in time if—

A trio of vibrations through the soles of her feet gave her pause, rattling up the tower at a volume barely perceptible to most, but to a woman one with the earth like Selma, were almost impossible to miss. They heralded the sound rushing through the air, a less dense medium, a moment later. The rumbling bursts. The orbs she had intercepted.

A shout from below, and then a crack of thunder— not metaphor like earlier, an actual bolt of lightning.

That settled it.

There was fighting going on down there for sure, so it hadn't kicked it yet. She needed to get back in there, and fast. A stairwell behind continuous evacuees of the tower's staff? No way she'd make it in time to do anything. She needed something faster.

A loose piece of concrete, a pebble of rubble from the blast of the first attack, tumbled into the void as she shifted her weight.

...

"Hey!" she called after a moment, waving to the spot of purple further off in the skyline that currently shouldered a rifle, probably (rightfully) admiring her work. "Rivka!"

Catching the musician's eye for a moment, she pointed towards the pavement below from the lip of the hole where she stood, her usual alacrity for the first time tinged by a slight uneasiness, a wan shake to the smile as the lips rose into it. "I'm headin' down, alright!?"

A beat passed as she swallowed (literally [ulp] ) her trepidation, not exactly waiting to hear her tag-team partner's response, hefted Kleinbruder to rest upon a shoulder—

And then she stepped off, dropping down the side of the tower, a meteor aimed squarely for the Void locked in mortal combat below. Reaching a hand, covered in steel, out to skid against the face of the building, her last words in the one-sided conversation floated up to the firebrand from the cold Russian north, a plume of sparks in her wake.

"SEE YOU THEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeee_{eeerrrrrrrrrrreeee!}"

By all rights it should have been over as soon as it began. Rivka's shots were perfect, two in succession grouped no more than centimeters apart. Her hand could have covered their path quite comfortably, and they struck with tremendous effect. Hell itself was nearly neatly nicked cleanly in two, nicely nominating her for her rightful acclaim. Its right arm simply separated at the shoulder, cleaved from its form and dispersed with prejudice. But still it remained.

To see it fall intact, to hear the commotion below that signified its survival, was disquieting. It warred with her sensibilities, made assault upon her wisdom, and openly clashed with all common sense. But she recognized the dissonance within her own mind quickly and the world slotted into its new proper understanding. Her brain insisted, despite all evidence to the contrary, that this was a living thing. It simply didn't compute to think of it as anything else. No living thing could cope with such massive trauma; contained within its torso were all sorts of vital organs and squishy bits, things that were supposed to remain intact and inside. Such wounds could only cause death, swiftly at that. Even her assailants at the station would have succumbed, had she the power to pierce their corrupted skin properly. It simply didn't make sense that things thing could still be alive, not even after she had already seen how its smaller kin manifested. But there was the root of the issue.

This Thing did not live. Not the way she understood life. This Thing was naught but Power, Power wrapped around a core somewhere in its being much as she could be thought of Power wrapped around a core called an Armagus. Rivka still possessed all of the incidental squishy bits, the form and functions that made her a human and not simply a gem that controlled Nox. But that had been stripped away, had it ever existed, and this Thing was nothing but power and control. Of course it didn't care if it lost an arm, or a leg, or half its body. It would simply will itself another, as it was already doing far below. It could not be mortally wounded, not without striking the core of its being. Would the same happen to her if someone struck at her Armagus, the prism of her soul? Would she be nullified as effectively, again reduced to merely mortal?

It didn't bear thinking on, but in that flash of insight she understood. If it had no form to wound, and its core could not be found, she would simply have to incinerate its entirety in the fires of creation. Let it burn within her soul, reduced not simply to nothing but erased down to its merest iota of energy. Let whatever remained scatter to the winds and speak her name, warn its kind that a new song had begun and theirs would soon end.

She laughed aloud and waved as Selma dropped like a messenger from the heavens, like the herald of her very own presence. Though, perhaps that was a thought better left unsaid to the girl who could tie her in knots? Still, Rivka didn't much like the idea of dropping to the street below quite so much. Her rocket idea had a lot of promise, but trying to slow a give herself a little bump and attempting a controlled landing were two different propositions. If she couldn't angle straight up and down what would she control her fall with? Her sleeves? Her gun? Did she look like Demonetta?

Actually, the gun thing had promise.

Kto ne riskuyet, tot ne p'yet shampanskoye.

Laughing again, more to cover her own flash of concern with her own plan than anything else, she dove over the edge and felt the wind whip her hair around. She would never reach terminal velocity, not from this height, or she would never attempt such a thing. She waited, and waited, and waited for what seemed like an eternity but transpired only in the merest fractions of seconds until she was about two storeys off of the ground and-

Her rifle ignited, not with a shot but with a plume. Rather than focused, it was diffused; combustive forces erupted form its barrel and in direct opposition to the rifle's path. They pushed it up, and with Rivka's steel grip pushed her up. Not enough to stop her, not nearly, but enough to blunt the forces; and for her to bleed them off even further by using her makeshift booster as a fulcrum, swinging herself down a hundred and eighty degrees to alight on her feet. Well, to hit her feet, feel her knees buckle, and turn it into what she made sure to act as though was a perfectly controlled somersault.

That one actually hurt a bit. Work on that idea.

Still she popped to her feet with no visible discomfort, spreading her arms in an expansive gesture proclaiming her mirth and enveloping the scene before her all the same.

"Selma! A kiln for our new friend, pozhaluysta!"

"Crystal!"

Chie arrived at the base of the tower, relief washing over her when she saw one of her fellow Ars Magi safe. Chie couldn't stop the oncoming smile on her face, saying "Thanks goodness you're okay... When I saw that explosion-" with her sentence left unfinished. The cause, of course, being the loud crash that occurred behind her. Chie turned and readied for battle. On instinct she re-summoned her gladius, the ambient Nox gathering in her hands to form her two Chakrams. Good thing that she had a moment to do so, as the void was busy repairing its damaged limbs.

"This thing... Earlier, the way it attacked..." Chie's thoughts began to race, adrenaline pumping through her as she readied for the inevitable split-second reaction that she would need to follow up with. The void conjured up an attack; three balls of Nox in a volley. Chie's focus sharpened. She tossed her chakrams, one and two, to intercept the balls. Unfortunately, two is still lesser than three. Even when Chie hit had her two targets head-on, causing a shockwave mid-air, she couldn't take care of the third.

It was a small blessing, then, that she had Crystal there to help block the last. Well, as much of a blessing as going up close to intercept it could be. "Crystal!" Chie worriedly yelled as the other girl had gotten scarily close to the blast radius. Chie didn't have the time to worry, though. She had to focus on the target, already readying another attack. Chie tried recalling her chakrams, but they were too far away. The world had slowed down for her when she'd realised that fact. It was going to take no more than a split second for the next volley to be readied... and Chie, without her chakrams, would be unable to block it. All she could do was brace herself for the coming impact.

But that impact never came. Chie watched in awe as a new Ars Magi, one she'd never met before, leapt out of an alleyway and took care of the problem before it could become a problem. Chie caught her returning chakrams safely, then continued to observe. The lightning-coated magi called for a certain Aoife to join the fray and join the fray she did. With a veritable ocean of water conjured around her, Aoife was floating in the air. This Aoife bent the water around her, a thread separating itself from the mass to be used as a weapon to-

"...Focus! This is your chance," Chie chastised herself to snap out of her daydreaming. She turned her focus back on the void. Chie figured she could hurl her chakrams at it again, but that regeneration was a problem. The other magi were doing a good enough job cutting off its limbs already, Chie wouldn't be much help there. No, what Chie needed to do wasn't aim for the kill. It was something else. She breathed in, feeling the ambient Nox in the area course through the gem lodged into her body. "One more time... just like before," Chie steeled herself as she reached out her hand: First an open palm, then a clutched fist. As Chie closed her hand, the area around the void began to heavy. The movement of its (and, by virtue of proximity, the lightning magi's) limbs slowed down; the very ground beneath the creature pulling on it to pin it to the concrete below. The monster could put up a bit of resistance at first, but it would find it harder and harder as Chie's magic continued to grow in strength. The flipside of that coin was that this particular spell acted more like a grapple; she needed to maintain her hold at all times unless Chie intended to let the creature to break free.

A feat made exponentially harder by the pain coursing through her back, hitting her like a recursive brick at the worst possible time. "Attack it... while I've... got it locked up!" Chie's strained voice called out to... well, anyone who had the ability to follow up, really. She couldn't exactly turn her sights away from the target, finding herself equally brought down to her knees from the effort she needed to put in.