Phony [DISCONTINUED FOR A REBOOT]

CH 8 : Repentance

"Slow."

Crackling crimson sword clashes against a prismatic shield. Neon-red electricity spreads around the round-ish block at contact, zapping the holder of the shield's hand, making it spasm for a second.

"And you call yourself a spawn of Gamma?"

Letting its shield crack and crumble, crystal gloved hand shoots out from behind the shield and grabs a hold of the lightning elemental's blade. It grips tight, the electric blade hissing as if it had nerves to feel pain.

A moment after, a low kick delivers itself right down toward Voltra's feet.

The black-red electricity that made up Voltra's legs jumps out of the attack, and then immediately detaches its blade-shaped arm out of its sibling's hold.

The two elementals created quite a distance between them—Voltra retreating backwards to regrow its arm, and the other simply stood still, chin high. "Never did i call myself anything that relates me to that fake god."

"You are Their mirror, for crying out loud!" a boom of thunder striking from afar was heard as Voltra exclaimed. "You are a walking mirror, so They have no need to carry you around.

You are a talking mirror, so you could not only compliment Them with altered reflections but also tailored words.

You are a mirror capable of defence, so none may crack the grand reflection of Gamma that has carved itself inside you."

"Falsity," the vibrant body of the crystal elemental shimmers hues of red, "the things you spout," remnants of the broken shield shook, floats, and conjures themselves back in the hand of the beholder--this time, in a shape of a long hammer, "are nothing but a projection of yourself."

All limbs back intact, Voltra shaped terror-worthy blades in response, not just on its arms, but also its calves, back, and shoulder blades, all part of its form that it could utilize as a weapon. If provided that it could grow new appendages, it would. "I hate you."

"Weak statement out of something who despises everything."

"I loathe you." Voltra's electric form spikes high, "You who thought you could be more. When even i who holds a part of Their power could be nothing but a tool.

Step out of the entrance of Their throne now, and i may let your surface be unscathed. You could never sever your ties with Them, even with Their death at your hands.

None of us could."

The head of a long hammer falls with a loud thud, that echoes and shakes the invisible floor of the sky where the two stood. "Then, say, what is it i could do?

What could i do to erase Their filth, the same filth that stained my being?"

Silent, in thought, only after a moment of wind passes that Voltra finally spoke, "You could not.

However,

you could release your selfish desire for a clean slate of self, by pulverizing the results of Their filth.

Do remember though, you could never be truly yourself if only a persona of your dream. Even so, when the time comes for a mistake that bloodies your hand, only then they will acknowledge your name,

Kris—

—tal!"

Halting the chains of oxygen it heaved in a sudden, Kristal's golden irises moves from the crystallized ground to the face of a worried young girl. "Are you alright? You're hyperventilating," she asked.