[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/cRMH2zR.png[/img][/center]
[center][color=Aquamarine]I hope [i]this[/i] isn't considered out of bounds...[/color]
[color=888888]-Nyxia Torrentia, Neon Tempest of the Ultraviolet Rainbow[/color][/center]

While the darkest depths of the ocean would have indeed take longer to reach than was practical, darkness wasn’t the [i]only[/i] thing Miseria were fond of. They also congregated around areas rich in negative emotions, places suffused with feelings of despair, anguish, and distress. And what better nexus of such emotions was there beneath the waves than the wreck of the Markov, a Russian cruiser that went down with all hands over a century ago, at the hight of the Russo-Japanese War. Its rusted remnants still rested off the coast, and while its unfortunate crew were now little more than piles of bones, Nyxia thought it was a fair bet that the emotional energy produced by their horrific demise would still be strong enough to attract at least a few Miseria, like vengeful ghosts haunting the site of their death. 

The glow of her neon hair, coupled with those produced by her energy cannon and Roche’s tattoos, provided more than enough illumination for the Neon Tempest to navigate her way to an open hatch and slip inside the wrecked vessel. Swinging the Omega Obliterator like a searchlight, Nyxia carefully investigated every nook and cranny as she methodically made her way ever deeper into the watery tomb. The increasingly tight confines might have concerned other magical girls, or, indeed, Nyxia’s easily frightened mundane self, but the Neon Tempest was confident that if she [i]did[/i] find herself in need of room to maneuver, it could be attained by the simple expedient of vaporizing the warship’s hull with a blast from her beloved weapon. As for Roche, she was sure the rule keeper would have little trouble keeping up.