❝ I'm hungry for your eyes. ❞
The line between fantasy and reality is faltering, and the two blurs into a malicious game transforming into truth. The erratic clench upon players is firm, while humans alike across Japan yield to the foreign phenome...
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Please rise, Lightning Dancer Ene.
The plethora of ersatz applause bellowed through her beloved headphones, spurring a wave of deafening cheers that enveloped the dubious space reminiscent of a vandalized junkyard. A quivering effect mimicking the sensation of wind twirled past, as her tresses of hair fluttered in accordance.
Each step emitted more conviction than the last, as she felt the traces of anxiety from her strides diminish to nil. She was practically the sovereign of the battlefield, in her own right. The dominance was hers to assert and enforce in the deathmatch, relishing in the daunting adoration players possessed for her image.
The expressions of encouragement fed music to her sensitive ears, messages flooding one after another in rapid succession. She couldn't help but to feel loved, and feared simultaneously. Harnessing such power sent scintillas of satisfaction down her spine; she suppressed a shaky smile from the simple sensation of it.
It was not the time to wallow in conviction. It was time to fight, for the free-for-all may as well have been her last.
The princess of the spotlight was more than prepared to dance with barrages of bullets, since it suited her much better than what was perceived as traditional ballroom dancing. Several clicks resonated in the air, as she presented herself with one final gloss over her stats before settling into a typical battle stance, pistols gripped in position.
As if it was irrefutably her final contribution to the expansive gaming world, she intended to make it count. If not for those she deemed friends or family, it was more saliently for herself.
Steadily, she sucked in a breath, allowing her eyes to rest for a mere handful of seconds, if only to calm herself before the match. She never ceased to drown out the excessive attention, as the crowd only amplified in animation. It was common knowledge that the arena was far from a haven of tranquility to begin with, however.
An abrupt chirp interrupted her brief cogitation, as her eyes fluttered open from the daze. A notification stretched across her screen, written as clear as day.
Right before the tournament... goddammit! she mused, furrowing her eyebrows in bewilderment.
A chat request sat in her invitation box, anticipating to acquire acceptance. Although she could have sworn muting her private messages, as she had no time for idle chit-chat during an event of such caliber, the system seemed to maneuver a mind of its own. Without delay, the appeal was accepted, superficially against her own will.
AKANE: Pride comes before a fall, and what follows is a city soaring out of control, caged in corrupt chaos.
AKANE: Enomoto Takane.
ENE:...?!
ENE: And who might you be?
AKANE: 'Just another die-hard Ene fan'... is what I'd like to say. Ehehe~ But unfortunately, that doesn't appear to be the case.
