[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/cRMH2zR.png[/img][/center]
[center][color=Aquamarine]Fucking dragon bitch… Fucking dragon bitch… Fucking dragon bitch…[/color]
[color=888888]-Nyxia Torrentia, Neon Tempest of the Ultraviolet Rainbow[/color][/center]

The weeks following the “fight” with Ashbringer saw Nyxia redouble her already manic efforts to cull as many Miseria as possible from Hibusa Town’s streets. She stayed out longer, ranged farther, and tried to seek out the most powerful of the nightmarish creatures to pit her strength against. Yet, for all that, the Neon Tempest’s admittedly vast power seemed to remain stagnant. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t getting any stronger, and neither were her ostensible allies…  

[color=Aquamarine][i]Could [b]they[/b] be holding me back?[/i][/color] Nyxia wondered as she leapt across the rooftops on her way to yet another pointless “strategy meeting”. 

However, a moment’s thought was all it required for her to reject that possibility. The quartet’s training had largely been done without the stifling micromanagement that came with Rei’s direct supervision, or the annoying interference of the other club members. Indeed, on many nights, Nyxia had been free to stalk the shadowed streets and haunted alleyways alone, just as she had done before Rei had first crossed her path. That should have brought her joy, should have allowed her to slaughter her hated prey to her heart’s content, utterly unhindered by her so-called “comrades in arms”, but it had all felt so hollow, so meaningless, as if she had reached some invisible barrier to her progress that no amount of dead Miseria could be piled high enough to overcome.

And of course, her hatred for Ashbringer remained undiminished.

Just the thought of the woman was enough to nearly send the Neon Tempest into a violent rage. Even sleep provided no respite, the draconic cyborg’s contemptuous visage haunting her dreams night after night as she sought to smash it into a bloody pulp, only for that goal to remain ever-illusive, her every attempt met with mocking laughter.

[color=Aquamarine][i]I’m [b]not[/b] weak…[/i][/color] Nyxia seethed, her teeth grinding together. [color=Aquamarine][i]Not anymore. I’m not just pathetic little Norika. I’m Nyxia Torrentia, Neon Tempest of the Ultraviolet Rainbow, and I’m gonna make that fucking bitch wish she had never been born…[/i][/color]

Although she hadn’t been able to save the flower shop, Nyxia had gifted the shop’s owner with the contents of her parents’ safe, an obscenely large amount of money that would hopefully cover the shop’s reconstruction and whose loss, while rather insignificant in the grand scheme of things, would still cause her hated parents no small measure of dismay. Strangely, it was the first act of kindness she had ever done for anyone other than her brother, and the Neon Tempest found that it actually felt rather nice. Indeed, it provided a small bright spot of peace in the midst of the dark sea of her churning fury.

A slight smile of contentment gracing her lips, Nyxia prepared to enter the club room through its open window, when she stopped at the sight of someone blocking her path, her hint of a smile swiftly morphing into an annoyed scowl in the process.

[color=Aquamarine][i]Oh great, it’s [b]her…[/b][/i][/color]

[color=Aquamarine]“My name’s [i]Nyxia[/i],”[/color] the Neon Tempest growled, even as Oros continued to babble about some kabuki theater and how she wanted to see a show there. With [i]her.[/i] [color=Aquamarine]“I don’t have time for that kinda crap!”[/color] Nyxia spat. [color=Aquamarine]“Did you miss the part where that fucking dragon bitch called us pathetic and weak?! How the fuck is watching some stupid fucking [i]play[/i] gonna make us stronger?!”[/color]