Claire Hill floated within the sky, standing upon a platform of ice, the night's wind blowing her white hair as her azure eyes stared below--at a sight which sent her azure mana flaring into the dark sky, lighting the city of Felcius in a blaze of blue.

"What is with you all?" She asked, her mana trembling around her form. At the moment, she was using everything she could to keep from her rage. "You call yourself heroes. Over and over, I continue to meet the lot of you who parade that status around as if they exist as the main character of the world, showing no remorse nor thoughts as to how their actions affect those around them."

She looked at the motionless Aura and Fieth, collapsed beside the man who called himself hero. She closed her eyes, aware the image was now forever imprinted in her mind, and sighed as she reopened her sight.

"Did you toy with Aura before you ended the fight?" She asked.

Lain Tross watched a flake of snow fall, then another. Before he knew it, his city welcomed a blizzard. 'A natural disaster,' He thought, glancing down as a flake of snow touched his weapon and hid a smile. He knew what it meant to call her that. Only the strongest beings in the world of Estea, the likes of the Sword Saint, or the Burning Princess, could be termed 'natural disasters'. He, above all else, wished to reach that realm.

He returned his gaze upwards, staring at a sight he thought enchanting, even as the dangers ahead crawled across his skin. He squinted his eyes, reading his opponent. He paused, choosing his words carefully.

". . .why do you have a trace of divinity?" He asked, frowning. Staring at her, through her, and beyond her at a plane of order only gods resided within. There was only a hazy image, something even his sight couldn't make sense of. "An imperfect divinity, but one nonetheless."

Claire stared at the boy. Had he just ignored her question?

"Are you done?" She asked.

Lain Tross's grip tightened around his hilt. "Are you sure you want to fight me while your friend still lays on the ground, bleeding to death?"

Claire was expressionless.

"Villains and heroes, one and the same, always monologuing. Who said I came alone?" She said, taking a step from her platform of ice. "So, I ask again, are you done?"

She disappeared.

"Because, if you don't mind, I'll be stripping your power now."

Lain's eyes widened as a gloved hand reached, centimeters away from grasping his face, a cold chill afloat. His figure shattered into shards of light, just as she touched him. A blade struck towards Claire's neck, exploding forward in a golden arc that tore through the air. She glanced at it and released a sigh of frost, her mana devouring it.

"Have it back."

The bladelight froze in place, flipped around, and hurtled back, slamming into Lain's shocked figure. He propelled backwards in a blast, barely having blocked his own attack with his weapon. He flipped within the air, feet skidding against the ground before coming to a stop.

A click rang against the streets of Felcius. Lain stared at his shaking arm, then at the girl who slowly approached him, the clicks of her boots ringing.

Usually, he could see a couple milliseconds into the future. Yet, right now, he realized he saw no overlays of her present and future actions, interposed, as he usually did. 'Does her trace of divinity have to do with time?' He thought. It hadn't looked like it. But, then again, he thought, 'It did not look like anything.'

As always, she was a mystery to him. First came a vision where they fought, and he clearly lost, whether through death or another means that took away his powers. Next came the mystery of her divinity, something he had only seen once before.

The girl walked closer and behind her, a creature of ice took shape. Snake-like, scaled in ice, its body resembled a snake, but its form was undoubtedly a dragon. It coiled around her in a glister of azure light, then sprung forward, jaws open, pouncing through the air as it ripped apart the wind.

As it tried to devour him, Lain took a step forward and flickered, phasing through the construct, slashing in a blur, and came out of the other end, a thousand cuts of light sparkling all at once, shredding the dragon of ice into nothing but shards resembling glass.

"Right," Claire said, "Anyway."

The construct reformed in an instant, twisted around Lain's form, and entangled the hero. Then, just as he moved to escape, it exploded out in a splash of water, entrapping him afloat, then froze solid once more.

Claire stood before the construct, staring momentarily at the boy who looked like a trap to her. She sighed as she watched the frozen spike crack with a golden light, then shatter.

The boy's sword glowed white as soon as he landed back down.

"<Blight>"

The light was sucked from Claire's world. Everything became darkness. Then, a soft voice came.

"I'm sorry."

She saw the flickering images of Lain Tross, interposed, endlessly upon one another.

Claire stared at those figures, aware that she couldn't move, and that she couldn't really feel her senses, as if her brain had been disconnected from her body. She watched, slowly, as a sword of pure white pierced forward, shooting for her chest.

"No thank you."

A crack of azure spread into the darkness, then the void shattered, snow blowing into the night's wind.

Lain Tross stood in place, before her, and blinked his eyes.

". . .you broke out of blight?"

"So?"

He chuckled dryly. "That doesn't make any sense. That was my trump card. A domain which zeroes in on you. A one strike kill, so long as my eyes see you. How did you break out of it?"

Claire narrowed her eyes.

"Have you ever played Rock Paper Scissors?" She asked, "What do you get when both individuals play the same hand?"

Lain paused.

". . .they cancel out. . ."

Claire nodded, her azure mana dancing around her figure.

"Sorry to say, but I'd like it if you could feel some more despair. Some knowing that I am so much stronger than you, that I become something to try and overcome," She said, "That way, perhaps your next chapter shall awaken. And then, of course, I'd love to break it."

Lain Tross chuckled at the girl's words, relief washing over him. Absolute bliss at the uncertainty of the future which awaited him. Something he hadn't felt since he lost to the Sword Saint. He gripped his weapon as his mana formed around his body, twisting like a tornado until it took the shape of a pure white armor of light. His blade extended, vibrating, becoming a white glow vaguely mimicking a sword.

"I would love nothing more," He said, shining as a bright spot of light; the area around him darkening. In essence, he stole part of the world's order of light onto himself. Mimicking what those who wielded Seeds could do.

Claire, however, stared, unfazed, already used to the notion that both heroes and villains always had a hidden card. A powerup of sorts that they somehow liked to keep hidden until they were losing, as if they were masochists who liked to be beaten. To her, it wasn't strange that someone who was both a hero and a villain had two.

"What a cliche," She muttered reproachfully, "Hero of Light."

Her body squirmed, momentarily displacing, flowing as if it were water as the seed she had devoured called out to her, the divinity within her flickering, growing brighter.

[Record of the Demi-God ?̶?̷?̷, First Chapter: . . .]

"But you know, I agree, having two hidden cards is certainly better than one."

[. . .'Two is Better Than One.']

Claire's voice mixed with another's, resounding in the minds of those who inhabited Estea, the scenery playing out as her body twisted, changing from something tangible and solid, to liquid. Her white hair became a wave of flowing water, draping behind her like a cape, and her eyes glowed gold.

"Now, stand still, so that I may take those powers of yours."

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