Amara watched as the four women entered the dimensional rift along with Lord Vermilion, a thoughtful expression on her face.

Lyon, who had followed Amara closely since the beginning of the commotion, noticed her hesitation. "Aren't you going as well?" he asked, curious about her decision to stay behind.

Amara simply shook her head, responding with simplicity: "No."

Lyon shrugged, accepting her choice without further question. He then turned his attention to Celeste, who was standing, gazing thoughtfully out the window. Her expression was one of concern, even anxious, as if she were pondering the consequences of the explosion or perhaps something more personal and deep.

Amara observed Celeste closely, picking up on the woman's concern in her posture and gaze. "Seeing Celeste so worried might be a problem," Amara commented, her voice laden with an unusual seriousness.

Lyon, who was following closely, tilted his head, a look of curiosity overtaking his face. "Why?" he asked, clearly intrigued by Amara's observation.

Amara didn't directly answer Lyon's question. Instead, she took a few steps toward Celeste, with calm determination. Lyon, with nothing better to do and driven by curiosity, followed her closely, remaining an attentive observer.

Approaching Celeste, Amara asked softly, "Did you see something?"

Celeste, who had until then been absorbed in her thoughts, turned her attention to the approaching Amara. With a heavy sigh, she replied, "This wasn't supposed to happen, what happened."

Amara raised an eyebrow, the gravity of the situation becoming clearer to her. "I see you weren't expecting this. That's worrisome," she stated, her voice low but firm.

Celeste nodded, the anguish evident in her eyes. "Yes, very worrisome," she agreed, revealing the depth of her unease.

Amara observed Celeste with a firm and reassuring gaze. "There's nothing to worry about. I am here," she said, with a confidence that seemed to envelop the surroundings.

Celeste, although still clearly concerned, managed to muster a faint smile and responded only, "Okay."

Noticing Celeste's hesitation, Amara continued, "Can't you see anything?"

Celeste looked away, frustration and disappointment mixing in her expression. "No, my ability cannot be used... I have already used it," she confessed, her voice laden with regret.

Amara expressed surprise, "I didn't expect... It must be very important for you to use it. What was it?"

Celeste cast a sidelong glance at Lyon, hesitating. She then murmured, "Nothing important," as she began to bite her nail, clearly frustrated with herself. "But I see that I wasn't supposed to have used it."

Amara, observing the scene, commented, "It's hard when you're not in control, isn't it?"

Celeste remained silent, her decision not to respond to Amara leaving a heavy silence in the air.

It was then that Amara, with her heightened senses, noticed something. "Something's coming," she said quickly, catching a subtle change in the environment.

With a swift and decisive move, she grabbed Celeste and Lyon, pulling them back. Seconds later, the salon's window was shattered by an immense figure that emerged through the high dust, its dramatic entrance sending shards of glass throughout the room.

Lyon, clearly surprised by the sudden appearance of the immense robotic figure that had just destroyed the window and invaded the room, couldn't contain his surprise. "A robot!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with disbelief, as he did not expect such a high-level confrontation to happen so suddenly.

The robot's voice, cold and metallic, echoed through the room, heightening the tension. "Target acquired," it said robotically, as if its words were filtered through circuits and processors, devoid of any human emotion.

Amara, with an impressive calm in the face of the threat, immediately directed herself to Celeste. "Stay behind me," she ordered, with unquestionable authority. It was evident that Amara had some suspicion of who might be the "target" mentioned by the robot, and everything pointed to it being Celeste. Without hesitation, Celeste quickly moved behind Amara, aware of her vulnerability and lack of offensive means to defend herself.

Lyon, following Celeste's example, also positioned himself behind Amara, seeking protection. He watched the interaction, even though he did not possess the strength to confront the robotic threat ahead.

Amara shot a look at Lyon, one that clearly said "I told her, not you," but Lyon chose to ignore that look, focusing on the unfolding situation before them.

The robot then identified Amara more specifically. "Intruder known as the goddess's handmaiden, step aside," it ordered, its robotic voice resonating with an implied threat.

Amara, firm and unshaken, responded with a single word, dry and direct: "No."

She then proceeded, her strategic curiosity coming to the fore, "What is a robot from the machine nation doing here? Is the northern region declaring war against the west?" Her question sought not only clarification about the unexpected presence of the robot but also conveyed a certain disdain for the machine's intelligence, suggesting she considered the robot incapable of sophisticated strategy.

The robot, ignoring Amara's words, focused on the task assigned to it. Its hands, previously in a neutral position, began to reconfigure; the fingers merged and retracted into the arms, giving way to energy cannons. A blue light began to glow intensely within these new compartments, heralding the release of devastating power.

Amara, observing the transformation, couldn't help but comment with a tone of disdain mixed with alert, "Stupid robot, as it seems, you have no intelligence at all, you're suspicious. The machine nation wouldn't send just one robot but several."

Without giving time for more considerations, the robot's cannons fired the blue lights towards Amara. With an impressive calm, she murmured, "The moon is coming."

At the very moment Amara finished her speech, everything around transformed. Day turned to night in the blink of an eye, and in the sky, a purple moon emerged, dominating the landscape with its unusual and mystical light.

Meanwhile, in the imperial capital, within a majestic church, a woman with hair as golden as the sun and eyes as bright as it, was kneeling in prayer. The sudden advent of night caught her attention, causing her to lift her eyes to the now purple-moon -dominated sky.

"Seline has used her power... Something is happening in my brother's region," she spoke to herself, a growing concern coloring her voice.

Rising from her kneeling position, the woman walked resolutely to the back of the church. Her posture emanated authority and determination, indicating that she was ready to take action in response to the unexpected event.

In the southeast nation, within a large coliseum, the atmosphere was charged with the tension of the ongoing clashes. The crowd, frenzied, watched the spectacle of strength and skill unfolding before their eyes. In the center of this battle stage, an imposing man, sweat glistening on his skin under the relentless sun, had just defeated his opponent. With a commanding movement, he placed one of his feet on the head of the fallen man, raising his arms in a gesture of absolute victory.

"I have defeated him!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the structures of the coliseum, reaching every corner and every ear of the spectators. His gaze then fixed on the center of the coliseum, where a woman was seated, calmly observing the events unfold.

She had red hair, which fell over her shoulders in a cascade of flames, and wore combat attire that perfectly outlined her well-developed muscular physique. The scars marking her skin were silent witnesses to the countless battles she had faced. They were wounds that spoke of her courage, her endurance, her indomitable will to fight.

Hearing the challenge, a slow and confident smile formed on the warrior's lips. "As you wish," she responded, her voice laden with an unspoken challenge, a promise of a confrontation that would be remembered.

And then, as if the universe itself responded to the impetus of that scene, night arrived abruptly. The day gave way to darkness, and in the sky, now dominated by stars, a purple moon emerged, bathing the coliseum in an unusual and magical light.

"Divinity..." the woman murmured, her red eyes capturing the mystical glow of the moon. She rose from her seat with lethal grace, her gaze fixed on the western horizon, as if she could see beyond distances, beyond time itself.

The sudden change in the sky did not go unnoticed by the spectators, who murmured among themselves, questioning, amazed and frightened.

At the top of the coliseum, two hooded figures, dressed in black clothes and white masks, watched the commotion below with a serenity that contrasted with the effervescence of the environment. One of them, with a deep male voice, broke the silence, "This is the power of the woman who can speak with the traitor. The attack must have started in the western region."

The other figure, a woman whose female voice sounded slightly amused despite the seriousness of the situation, replied, "Looks like it, our target is the representative from the southeast, right?"

The man, with a voice hinting at a trace of impatience, replied, "Yes, did you forget? Why are you asking?"

She, with a light laugh, said, "My bad, I had forgotten, hehehe." As she spoke, she tilted her head and began to scratch her green hair that emerged from under the hood.

The man continued, emphasizing the importance of their mission with a gravity that contrasted with his partner's levity, "We have to be careful. She, among the representatives, is the third strongest, only losing to the one from the northeast, who is in first, and the one from the west, who is in second."

The woman, with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, replied, "Don't worry, she'll be easy to kill."

The man put his hand on his face, wondering why the organization's leader had chosen this woman to partner with him. "Of course not," he said, responding to his own question about the intent to kill the southeast's representative. "She's more useful alive than dead. Who the hell said she was to be killed?"

"Yeah, isn't it? So, what are we going to do with her?" the woman asked, visibly confused about the plans for the representative.

The man, frustrated, replied, "You didn't even research the culture of this region, did you?"

The woman looked at him as if he were an idiot. "Why would I do that? You're not very smart from what I'm seeing."

"Here, strength is everything. If we defeat her, she will obey us. It's better to have a representative on our side than against us," the man explained, trying to clarify the plan to his partner.

"You expect her to side with us just because she was defeated? From what I see, she doesn't seem like a woman who thinks too much," the woman commented, expressing doubt about the effectiveness of their plan.

"I see you really don't know anything. Well, it doesn't matter, just fight to win," the man said, trying to end the discussion and focus on the task at hand.

Excited by the prospect of combat, the woman asked, "So, it's no problem if she dies, right?"

"If you can manage that, no," the man replied, implicitly acknowledging the strength of the southeast's representative, but also suggesting that her death was not the primary objective but rather a possibility if the confrontation became lethal.

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