[color=gray][CENTER][img]https://i.imgur.com/mnuXeVg.jpg[/img][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=978184][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]Southern Plateau[/I] - [I]Pacific Royal Campus[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=#978184][b]Hope In Hell #2.0027:[/b][/COLOR] [I]asunder.[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][center][sup][color=#2e2c2c]_____[/color][color=#373534]_____[/color][color=#403d3c]_____[/color][color=#494644]_____[/color][color=#524f4c]_____[/color][color=#5b5754]_____[/color][color=#64605d]_____[/color][color=#6e6965]_____[/color][color=#77716d]_____[/color][color=#807a75]_____[/color][color=#89837d]_____[/color][color=#928b85]_____[/color][/sup][sup][color=#9b948d]_____[/color][/sup][sup][color=#928b85]_____[/color][color=#89837d]_____[/color][color=#807a75]_____[/color][color=#77716d]_____[/color][color=#6e6965]_____[/color][color=#64605d]_____[/color][color=#5b5754]_____[/color][color=#524f4c]_____[/color][color=#494644]_____[/color][color=#403d3c]_____[/color][color=#373534]_____[/color][color=#2e2c2c]_____[/color][/sup][/center][INDENT][sub][color=#978184][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR] haven. - [@Skai][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=#978184][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [color=gray][I]apparition.[/I][/color][/right][/SUP]
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	How does one kill the likeness of a god?
How does one kill the multifaceted burden of their bitter heart?

How does one destroy the manifestation of love? Loss? Heartache?

Amma Cahors doesn't know the answer then, but she'll find it when destiny and fate collide and bring her to her knees; broken, spent, and [i]alone[/i]. When the world grows weary of her malcontent - when a would-be almighty looks upon her and decides that she has had [i]enough[/i]. When she no longer has the power to maim and all is for naught; the creature lain within finally lent to rest.

But now, the roaring betwixt her ears is a violent maelstrom that pillages through her lobe with the fury of a storm, the vibration of an unholy declaration sundered through the vessel known as the void that welcomes her into its embrace of nihility. She often dreamt of a netherworld where the forsaken and woeful found comfort in the caressing stillness, beasts of a prophesied hell cantering through her bones, marked in her blood, sluicing through her veins in phosphorescent fragments that shimmered and coiled. Wed to the HZEs that wracked through her, high-energy particles that were eternally tangible in whorls of scarlet liken to fated strings of life.

And through the darkness, they descended: the dragon of The Foundation and the could-have-been beloved of P.R.C.U. A princess now forsaken of her crown, her home, her will to be spent and lorn as she wept, screamed, and cinched crimson nails over the throat of the woeful creature that laughed and laughed.

And laughed.

Amma welcomed the prick of those damned nails to her skin, the loathed face that loomed over her, and the tears she spent as the eternal chasm of the deep seemed to stretch further and further. From where they had fallen vanished entirely, the lights guttered out in their wake as silver and red collided and wove together, their powers meshed to a singular unit of pain that wrecked through bones and flesh. She didn't know how long they fell through the ruin, but she knew the awaiting end would likely crush them both unless they managed to part. The sharp twinge of pain through her neck spoke otherwise of her likeness's agony and the unlikelihood she would allow her free and as the edges of her vision warped and faded, a roar split asunder the void and tore through her soul.

A hearkening bellow of something that never should have been, of something that should not have been part of this world. Amma remembers once the tales of another world, the christening of a god from the depths below, wreathed in death and life, a woeful creature bound in time and left to rot- an embodiment of vengeance and purpose for all the wrong done unto it.

For all the wrong done unto her.

	[color=c8a2a7]"Why was it you that got to be true? Why did you get to live and not me?"[/color] A grin slid through the dark, a ridge of bone bathed in blood over the pout of her lip as she answered:

	[color=#978184]"Because I'm stronger."[/color]

The Foundation sought one end to the being that was Amma Cahors, the child they took, the weapon they created. The fabrication of the unknown that curled her arms around her opponent and switched their positions, the smile that foretold of hell, the smile that was Tiamat. She was stronger, for she was All, and she was Made. Her powers of decay spewed forth in plumes of black that shrouded the beloved in her grasp, snapping coils of obsidian wove to her body and slid through her hair, the putrid smell of rot permeating the air alive in red streaks of defiance and hate. From yonder the pit of despair, another cry sounded, a baying call that harmonized with the wails from those lips she had cursed with her kiss of death. 

And there, she saw it. [i]Fear[/i]. Reflected in her own eyes, a likeness of endless depths unburdened by rage but compounded by hate. Crimson swells of energy speared through her palms and visibly shuddered as they worked through her blood and flayed apart the wounds on her wrists and snaked over the split flesh at her chest, the fibers of her suit split down the middle, almost at her navel where the scythe of energy had cleaved down. Her fingers splayed, arched, claws against the skin slowly coming undone under her power of complete and total nihilism. 

	[color=c8a2a7]"No!"[/color] She screamed. [color=c8a2a7]"Not like this! Not after everything! The monsters are not supposed to win!"[/color] Red churned and sputtered and scoured over Amma's arms and impaled over her shoulders, it swept down the planes of her back and linked into her scars. She would not scream, she would not allow this weeping reaper the satisfaction of her anguish. 

And with a sickening thud, they finally stopped.

What awaited them was an abyss that churned with thick remnants of that hated phosphorescence that clung to her pores, invaded her senses, and every lance and gaping wound and sliver of peeled skin that suddenly [i]burned[/i]. Then Amma screamed. A lamented song of a siren not unlike her screech earlier when reality settled and she realized she was trapped, but lingering spools of pain wove through her throat and chest and another cry peeled from her full mouth. Something was broken by the hideous fire that quaked through her body, but it was the homage of misery that she knew, a remnant of her past where it was not only flesh that was marred but every link of marrow that had been snapped over and over. The threshold that most mortals adhered to, Amma had been spent beyond even that and once upon a time someone had muttered of hyper-psychosis: a term she recognized but knew nothing of its meaning. 

Her likeness had taken the brunt of the impact and through the glow provided, she lay at an impossible angle, blood and tendrils of power churning through the liquid as everything broke and punctured within. Misery like she had known lay in her eyes unmoving and unwavering and Amma leaned over her, unable to shake the comparison.

	[color=#978184]"Maybe you should've been the one to be. That happiness?"[/color] A soft laugh eclipsed her words, a bitterness inflicting her confessions. [color=#978184]"Maybe I should be the one trying to kill you in these trials."[/color] She tried to speak, blood that frothed black at her lips and nose choking her final whispers.

	[color=c8a2a7]"I'm scared,"[/color] she pleaded. [color=c8a2a7]"I don't want to lose them. Please. You don't deserve them! You don't deserve h-!"[/color]

	[color=#978184]"We never had them,"[/color] Amma uttered, slid her fingers through her hair and touched her brow with her lips, a parting gift, a kiss of the final journey and her barriers- her walls of obsidian fell around her heart and soul, and she said:

	[color=#978184]"I'm sorry."[/color]

Life finally dimmed in those hated eyes and was swept away, her powers of destruction woven over her body until she was reduced to naught but ashen remains, her blood and bones and flesh lost to the leagues of black and red that slunk and snapped and warped over Amma's figure as she stood. Pain flared through her body but she bore the scorch of her wounds with cinched fists but as she turned, looking for a way out, she stalled at the rattling of chains in the gloom and what she saw that awaited her there.

Amma Cahors has known pain unlike anything in this world, she has known betrayal, she has known heartache and she has known death. But for the first time, she suddenly knows fear; the unknown, the in-between of this world, and something else that looms over her as the creature that also lurks within her soul. She is immobilized as it rises and with breath the color of the same red that warped the world at her feet, it exposes what lies within its massive claws. She is once again met with her likeness, but then not. Her eyes as pits of a forsaken hell snapped with wildfire in a sea of black; her skin [i]alive[/i] with ink that roved and spun and moved; her hair bleached white at the ends and her entire frame wrapped in chains too thick for a mere woman. With a scar-riddled hand, she points over her shoulder, fingers extended into talons of black and stained in blood down her wrists and arms.

	[color=000000][i]Be glad you did not stay, Tiamat.[/i][/color]

A door she had not seen prior suddenly bursts open on a gust of unforeseen power and strength, tearing into the very walls that shudder under the massive strain. Amma doesn't hesitate and makes to leave, limping, but moving through the hated liquid pooled around her calves and clinging to her suit as if trying to prevent her from escaping. She does not look back, unable to witness she that is lost in the dark, chained to a beast and a void that they both knew as home. When she does leave that pit and all she has seen behind, the wall suddenly closes on screeches of metal, sealing shut as if it had never been. Harsh lights spear at her eyes and she glances down at her figure bloodied and stained, the yellow accents of her suit muddied in black and exposing her skin and the wounds she now bore. She caressed her scarred palms down, attempting to address herself into something proper, as another corridor loomed ahead and Amma didn't hesitate to move, eager to leave it all behind, to continue her search for a way out.

If there was one.

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In the distance she hears many screams, shouts, and voices that ping away at her ears, timbres she recognizes and names she now knows. Amma uses the wall as a crutch, stopping to address what she is positive is a broken ankle, the pain she can endure, but the progress she has made through the maze stalls nonetheless. Her wounded chest rises and falls on a quivering breath as she leans against the sterile wall now smeared in her blood, she wants to rest, weariness weighted through her limbs as she leans her head back and glares at the overhead lighting. 

She would not be undone, no, Amma refused.

With gritted teeth, she continued on, up and up, left and right.
Right and up again.

And peculiarly enough, whorls of red, unbidden as always, suddenly sparked to life, these cords and whips of scarlet stirred into a frenzy as she was met with another section to continue forward, or to go left. Her powers bid left, the crimson sparks whisking away to silver at the edges and reaching, searching, seeking something that called to their manifest. Amma recognized the yearning that slid through her power, the undeniable magnetism that bore life in a clearing of just the [i]two of them[/i]. A quiet trill of laughter spun from her bloodied lips, lashes fanned low on her cheeks as she twined her fingers through the cords of her potency, red flung away from her gestures as she stretched out her arm and through the ambient HZEs there, a banner of scarlet sundered away from her. Chaotic whips of energy speared down the corridor where many voices collided, where she felt herself drawn to.

But the terrifying screams that suddenly came from ahead stilled her intentions, screams she recognized of someone subjected to the helpless confinements of this hell. Amma flung another bought of her power after the first for good measure, not waiting to see if they reached their destination before she continued forward, those screams reaching deep and puncturing through her heart. A disembodied voice she recognized slid down her spine, bunched tight and tense as she pushed herself forward and with every panel her hand touched, a droning sound resonated, it vibrated through the halls as her abilities spun into a fever. 

She saw the girl first, the wings next, the terrifying sobs that wrecked through her as bone and blood was shredded apart. Tawny feathers fell and a trembling hand reached out to her through the swarm of bodies bent over her, bloodied nails torn away to flesh as they cleaved through the wings stretched taught and bound. Amma stilled, recognizing the brunette hair, the manic eyes lined in red as sobs of pain tore away from her gaped lips.

She didn't hesitate.

Amma flung out her hand, fingers arched and bones aching, her nails raking through the air as spears of black and red came to be, the world trembling at her abilities as they dragged and impaled every masked figure. She bid them to be destroyed liken to the pain they inflicted. To be torn apart.

The girl on the operating table continued to wail and scream, her wings utterly destroyed and mangled, one nearly severed where downy feathers were matted and bloodied. She looked unto Amma with both fear and distorted hope, but there was no saving her, she knew. She begged for it stop, for everything to end and Amma granted her that single mercy with a flicked wrist, a cord a crimson snapped around her throat and looped down to her heart. She looked like Haven, but the color of her eyes told her it was not, but rather the former roommate of someone she knew that had been taken like so many others. At her feet, the masked figures wailed as they were rent asunder from within, but she spared little mercy for them as she finally looked up. A cage was suspended above but it was empty, the bars scuffed and familiar feathers spread across the linoleum below. Amma followed their trail to another room, a door at the back left ajar as more screams sounded.

There she found Haven much like the previous girl, bound and her wings stretched impossibly taught, masked figures prepping her for surgery in the impossibly sterile room, needles and tools and saws gleaming with promised malice. If this was the real Haven, she thought, her presence finally noted as one reached for a weapon, a gun hoisted forward and aimed at her chest.

Could she take that risk though? Even if she was a simulation, could she subjugate another to the same hell she had been put through as a child for so many years?

Amma lifted palms up, feigning compliance as the ground shook, tile broke and splintered as whips of silver and red rose up and up and bled black wherever they touched. She spared them a quick death as they fell, one by one, reduced to mere ashes that swept away into the void of nothingness before Amma limped to Haven's side. 

	[color=#978184]"Be still."[/color] She commanded and made quick work of her bindings, slivers of her power breaking apart the manacles that held her down and making delicate attempts to unbind her wings next. She felt exhaustion loom just beyond the discharge of her usual breadth of energy, a first in many, many years that caused her breath to catch before she finally managed to free Haven.

	[color=#978184]"There,"[/color] Amma breathed, stumbling back, her power refusing to abate as it pulsated down her frame as if poised and ready to strike should this Haven prove false. 
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