I can give you freedom from your guilt with a flick of my wrist
The electricity in the woman’s hands is like blood in the water to Nephele. Is it not the closest? The woman cannot bleed after all. She knows now she has found the wound in the beast’s flesh, and so she sinks her fingers into the open wound and digs.
“‘Until your last breath’,” she simpers in chorusing echo, face empathetic - until it is hard and cutting, unforgiving and cruel as her glass-encrusted grin slowly blossoms, “but you don’t breathe anymore, do you child?” Advancing further like a hunting dog, her fingers flex around the chakrams in her hands. “Whatever you are now, each second you spend blighting this earth is a mockery of the faith you once had. And even when you die - when you are extinguished or dismantled like the construct you are - you will earn no. Forgiveness.” The words are spat hatefully, and then she lunges - one chakram sweeping in a graceful arc aimed from Maea’s hip to her shoulder.
“‘Until your last breath’,” she simpers in chorusing echo, face empathetic - until it is hard and cutting, unforgiving and cruel as her glass-encrusted grin slowly blossoms, “but you don’t breathe anymore, do you child?” Advancing further like a hunting dog, her fingers flex around the chakrams in her hands. “Whatever you are now, each second you spend blighting this earth is a mockery of the faith you once had. And even when you die - when you are extinguished or dismantled like the construct you are - you will earn no. Forgiveness.” The words are spat hatefully, and then she lunges - one chakram sweeping in a graceful arc aimed from Maea’s hip to her shoulder.
I can give you death with the look upon my face
