𝐁𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃-XXXV 𝙄𝙉 𝙒𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙃 [Name] Aizawa ends her journey of destiny.
❛It's all in your hands.❜ nov 22, 2023.
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IT WAS THAT SENTENCE. That very sentence that engraved itself between the thick bands caging her brain in, her skull could crack underneath the pressure those five words impacted.
For the pain of it all was finally justifying itself, was finally wrapping her in an uncomfortable, unwelcoming embrace that made her trembling skin itch in change.
It all hurt. She felt weak. She didn't know if standing was even the correct formula to her demise. With a short, shaky exhale, her throbbing head was gently raised into a heightening stance, her intimidating eye contact seeping into the cowardly villains, facing her way.
The heel of her black boot made contact with dusted wooden tiles. She took her final step, the eyes of a traitor lingering into the man who could only be aliased a coworker.
Her glossy lips gently parted, her tongue sliding from the roof of her mouth, the words she would later lace in venom ringing out into the silent, airy room.
"Where is he?"
Karma had announced aloud, a soft echo from the demanding and deserving tone profusely hung in the arena.
"Answer, or it won't only be his blood painting the ground."
The threat was an expected delivery, a package of desperation. She held the desire in her veins, and nothing would halt her fierce manipulation of events.
Her eyes were cold and siren shaped like the burrows of thick mounds of snow, freezing to the touch and gifting the aura of winter. Yet that snowy feel held a certain peak of nostalgia, a tear in space to showcase the alluring power and nature of her eye contact.
"He's on his way." The lowered male who quivered on his knees responded to her venomous querie. It was only righteous. The mask hiding his face held the disguise of his startled expression.
The mission had proven forward. With heroes gathered, arriving in traps and fighting amongst the battle, it was time for [Name] to start her own.
Karma wasn't preparing, that's for sure. She was ready.
The last minutes on her ticking clock chimed, signifying the short time she had left.
Today was the day she was expected to die, an explanation for such a painful experience she endured, the reason her breaths were slower, the reason she was so weak.
And today would be her final battle.
But for some reason, instead of feeling relieved, she felt like something was missing, like something didn't make her feel whole.
And that, matter o' factly, that exact feeling stung worse than the pain in her body, it was farther more intense.
For what if she realized, just then, that maybe she didn't want to pass?
