Power.
In all definitions of the word, the unmatched crushing energy of the blast before them can be defined by the purest descriptions of it. It wasn't a mere blast of unwavering energy, it was like the sun had appeared in spiritual form, her Nehema cracking a spatial wound. If Tohka were not the Spirit representing the calamity of earthquakes, in this regard, her inverted self would be a cosmic crisis.
Perhaps in some regard, things have evolved from a crisis on the earth to a calamity of a cosmic influence, for time seems to dilate, the surge of Reiryoku lasting longer.
"Keter Tsahov: Apot'ropus!" cries Laura as a pushing force deflects the knockback of the night-brought blade's might, subsequently shockwaving the closeby Tamae away from the site for her immediate safety.
Laura and Miku were reinforced with flickers of invincibility. Nevertheless, they struggle against the burning.
The burning?
The burning... feeling. The intense heat against the skin...
The veracity of this power harkens her thoughts back to the day of her death. Those slow moments leading up to her demise were burnt into her psyche. How could they not be? This moment begins to resemble that very day. Laura's eyes shrink, her breathing swallowing, and she visibly winces. However, she firms her sanity as her ultimatum as she feels the more comforting warmth of Miku's accompanying hand—she resists the sensation to crumble.
The grip on her hand tightens, reminding Laura to stay strong.
"Haa..." sighs Laura, turning to look at Miku, thankful for her heartfelt support. Even for just this time, she will try to set aside her mental burdens. "Thanks, Mi— Eh?"
A menacing loathing gives Miku a wry grin, sharpened heavily on one side of her cheek. Laura is hers, Miku's Laura only!
Hatred. Burning hatred.
So this means whoever hurts her in any way deserves nothing less but her ire! But unlike this buffoon of an insolent berserker, she's inclined to control that hatred. It's not what Laura would've wanted. She wouldn't want her lovely white lily to have to deal with two haters one after the other. So, for now, at least, Miku quells her ire into a more controlled substance.
Thus a contention of iniquities occurs. The burning rage of the Calamity Princess, and the burning animosity of the First Apostle.
And the Crown reacts accordingly to this. Laura felt it.
The Crown flies to Miku's head, her gluttonous grin returning to deceive any ounce of satiation. Keter Tsahov turns malleable, something between solid and liquid. Miku earlier has had a taste of an Inverse Spirit's Reiryoku, this time, however, she hungers—she starves for it with a smile on her face.
"Keter... Tsahov..." she mouths, taking a deep breath, and while she did, she moves in front of Laura. As their invincibility is stripped off, she takes in all the sharpness and burning of her enemy. Though the bandages around her throat threaten to reopen supernatural wounds, she bellows powerfully, "Ofan... Laha!"
The air hollowly shifts.
A dark, golden aura unfurls around the First Apostle, growing in intensity until it resembles a pulsating halo of molten light. However, within that aura, the world seems to conflict with itself. It doesn't know how to portray the very things exuding from the darkness, for two answers frame the correct beings.
Many golden rings with multitudes of eyes and wings—something holy.
A black hole of spectral tendrils of sickly yellow miasma—something eldritch.
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Date A Live: Red Crown Vessel
FanficIf I was destined to be nothing, why have I been called up for such an ending? The Crown is mine, yet there are none to rule. But if I could bring you back, I would do it once, twice, thrice times over and so, so, so much more. I know who I am and w...
