end of the line, @yeolkeotā.
they all had their hopes placed onto her and yet selfish as she was, she sought to escape the illusionary chains that bound her. it was him. he who does not care about human lives. he sneered and filled himself with disdain, letting grudges consume him. he did it all so willingly. he talks of a love to offer, but she was nothing more than a pawn. her salvation was elsewhere, until it all goes wrong.
there is one important flaw to her that is easy to accept. she is a hypocrite. she is pure lies and illusions. she ignores any sign of sustainable judgement. the moment her cover is blown, she runs. she is fast, she can hide in her shadows, she can turn her own trail into deception. it made sense why this is her power. it is the manifestation of her soul. she only knew violence but held on to the idea of peace. she only knew cruelty, but held on to the idea of heroism. she is too stubborn, believing in things when everything around her tells her otherwise.
but this time, she runs with the motivation to chase what has haunted her for decades. she knew no stronger foe. adamās semblance was to pierce through aura. all her hits and blade beams, he can simply store and have it backfired on her, bypassing her aura for one big attack. sheās seen it herself and replicated the skill itself for her own benefit. the passive force field she can create can only stop damage, not pain. her wounds can heal, but not in a snap. she casts herself on a rule; no logical thought or speech until one of them is dead. this was her last stand, whether she wins or lose. if there was anyone who needed to see her gone, it was him.
his frame, the details of his face, and his figure turns into a glowing red from a distance. she feels her chest sting at the sight of him. he offers her words, but she didnāt arrive to have her walls broken down. she makes her first strike in thoughtless anger. āwhat you want isnāt possible. you cannot die.ā she hated him for speaking the truth. he knew all the ways to tick her off, and even being apart for so long, he knew what her agenda was. yet, she doesnāt stop. āi understand. all i ever wanted was you. i wanted to light the fires of revolution with you.ā
ālies!ā she strikes on and on in a tantrum, each beat smashing onto his sword and making it glow brighter. āfight back, you bastard!ā thus, the first time he listens to her without any protests. he charges back, sending her katana away and disarming in one blow. all the colors around them becomes drained. everything turns red and black. rose petals float in the air and then they fall, shrinking and wilting. he stops midway, trapping arabella under his weight. ājust kill me.ā she begs, finally sparing him a softened gaze, eyes watering, prepared to bequeath him as she steps into a place of darkness.
āyou ought to remember, i made it my mission to destroy everything you love and ever loved.ā alarmed, her eyes shift in urgency and in a blink of an eye, a searing pain in her chest hits her like a bullet. blood gushes out and covers her while her hand desperately attempts to press down his wound. ānoā¦ no, no, noā¦ noā¦ā his skin grows cold yet his expression shows he remained unfazed until his last breath. the night ends with arabella soaked in his blood and her tears.
she bemoans how he continues to hurt her to the very end and the next morning, she paces around in what sheās made into her lair with his weapon in her hand. all sheās left with was memories. all she ever knew was gone. through mourning, she sets out to clear her mind but a stranger takes the worst of times, halting her steps as he goads her on, speaking of bringing her down. for the sake of his friends. ākihyunā was the only thing that registers and it catches her attention for a split second. then her mind shifts once again. if he could do as he says, she wouldnāt complain.
the jaded warrior doesnāt flinch at one punch, another and still she doesnāt budge. he goes for a third, and a fourth, and adamās words resonate in her mind. it is impossible. it feels impossible. she cannot be killed, not by this weak human being, not by anyone she knew. adam was her only hope but now heās gone, too. she stands unprovoked, but there was still a chance. it was but a selfish act once again, but she was running dry on ideas. she couldnāt take it anymore. she intercepts an attack of this stranger, walking forward and him taking steps back until they were on the streets. with all the witnesses around, she severs his arm without a moment of hesitance.
the gasps come in unison. she looks around to see everyone looking at her, some dialing numbers on their phones, others screaming in horror. it was a deed that cannot be undone. she flees, just like sheās always done when trouble arises, even though sheās set on a purpose. back to the place she calls home, she sits solemnly, waiting for the expected visit and it doesnāt take long.
death isnāt kind. arabella knew that. it snatched where it could, taking people who were far too young, far too good, far too deserving of a life. it didnāt pretend to care, it didnāt pretend to distinguish. the hooded vale of death had hung over the world for a long time, always threatening. it had never touched arabella quite so close. she never thought it would be possible. not when sheās given up years ago and she still stays where she is.
they say those who live fully is not afraid of death. yet despite all the centuries, she has not lived fully and she didnāt fear death. she feared not knowing whether the pain sheāll stand through would bring her what she had been ready for. she sees it as a foggy road that she has to pass to finally see the clearing. it is yet another path to walk, but whoās to stay itāll be her last?
it was selfish of her to put him up to the task. living with the thought of the dead was hard enough, but being responsible for one was another. arabella knew it all too well. she had caused far more deaths than a graveyard can fill.
for treason, for heresy, for witchcraft, for being all that is evil; a capital punishment, this is what she deserves. back in her world, she would have taken a pouring of molten metal onto her, down her throat, into her ears. she would have taken being enclosed within metal contraptions subsequently heated. she would have taken boiling to death. auto-da-fƩ. everything that was painful. this was to atone for her sins.
lightheaded and feeling like the world is spinning, head throbbing against her skull. cold tendrils embrace her, vision fading, rattling gasps, breaths struggling to slip past bloodied lips. it was a steady progression, but it goes on fast. red with clear blisters, blanching with pressure. she could feel the pain seeping into layers of her skin. then thereās yellow along with discomfort, onto the full-thickness and suddenly the pain disappears. she feels nothing but stiffness. then little by little, it turns black and dry, charred with dark scabs.Ā
she screamed her last screams, then like a silent yet faithful companion, she waited until she ebbs into the comforting folds of darkness.
lights out. sweet dreams.
