Seline, hurled from the dimensional portal by the overwhelming force of the explosion, fell at the feet of Lord Vermilion. Her body, a monument to the chaos she had just faced, was marked by severe burns; the skin of her normally smooth and flawless face was now disfigured, revealing raw flesh beneath. The long, dark hair that had always given her an aura of mystery had disappeared, leaving only a few sparse strands on an almost bald head. The clothes she wore were now nothing but ashes, leaving her exposed, vulnerable, and naked, each contour of her body marked by the ferocity of the fire.

A sharp scream tore through the silence of the scene. "Seline!" The voice belonged to Lady Vermilion, who, upon seeing Seline's deplorable state, could not contain the emotion that spilled over in her scream. On the other hand, Lord Vermilion observed the scene with an oddly devoid look of concern or despair. Instead, there was a cold satisfaction, almost as if the suffering before him was an expected piece of a larger game.

At that moment, an imposing figure with blue hair flowing like the current of a tranquil river under the moonlight approached Seline and Lady Vermilion. "Leave her with me," said the woman with blue hair, her voice carrying a serene and unquestionable authority. "She won't die with me here."

With a gentle movement, she placed her hand on Seline's burned body. "Change," she pronounced, and a soft light emanated from her palms. Incredibly, the burns that marked Seline's body began to fade, her skin restoring itself to its prior state, as if fire had never touched her flesh. Her hair, once almost completely lost, now flowed again, black as the deepest night.

As the transformation took place, the night closed in around them, and a huge purple moon rose in the sky, tinting everything with its ethereal light. The woman with blue hair looked up at the moon and murmured, "Amara must be fighting with someone." The mention of that name caused a visible change in Lord Vermilion's demeanor; his eyes, previously cold and calculating, now burned with barely contained rage.

"We have to go back," he said, his voice laden with urgency and frustration.

The woman with blue hair, indifferent to his irritation, replied calmly, "You can return to your mansion, I'll check here." With an authority that seemed to defy any rebuttal, she dismissed Lord and Lady Vermilion, her attention still partially turned to the night sky and the purple moon that dominated the panorama.

Lord Vermilion, although clearly discontent with the situation, recognized the futility of arguing. With a brief, almost reluctant nod, and without another word, he turned, indicating to his wife that she should follow him. "As you wish," he finally said, his voice bringing a tone of resignation mixed with the anger that still burned inside him.

The city of Green Waters, nestled between the sea and a dense and mysterious forest, was a place of natural beauty and hidden charms. The winding roads and bustling port were the veins through which the city's life flowed, connecting it to the outside world. But it was on its edges, in the part of the pebbles where the forest approached with a whisper of leaves and secrets, that a strange scene unfolded under the light of the purple moon.

The woman with blue hair, whose imposing presence had dissipated the pain and restored Seline's form, now furrowed her brow as her eyes peered into the tree line. There was something there, a presence that disturbed the tranquility of the night.

In the heart of the forest, not more than a whisper away from the pebbles of the city, a man sat atop a stone. His attire was as black as the night, starkly contrasting with the white mask that concealed his identity. He tilted his head, as if trying to catch something in the air, and murmured to himself, in a voice full of surprise and recognition, "She noticed me?"

The woman with blue hair, perhaps hearing the inaudible call of something beyond common senses, shot towards the forest. Her speed was such that she appeared almost a blur to any onlooker, a bluish shadow moving with the urgency of the wind.

The masked man stood up, a smile outlined beneath the white mask. "She really did notice me, I expected no less from the second strongest representative," he spoke, a tone of admiration coloring his words.

He had barely begun to tap his foot on the forest floor, an action that seemed to precede some unknown ritual or consequence, when the woman with blue hair appeared before him. The ground barely had time to vibrate with the impact of his single gesture.

"How is this possible?" she questioned, the blue of her hair almost blending with the darkness of the night. "Does this organization still exist?"

The man, in the presence of such a representative of power, bowed in reverence, his posture conveying respect and a certain delight in the meeting. "Pleased to meet the second strongest woman in the world," he said, his voice muffled by the mask, but carrying an unmistakable tone of courtesy.

The blue-haired woman fixed her gaze on the masked man. "You are new," she said, suspicion weaving into her words, "I can't recognize your voice."

The man, shrouded in the shadow of his white mask, replied with a calm that bordered on disdain. "Not everyone is immortal."

She frowned, the purple moon's light reflecting in her eyes. "Is your organization still on the same agenda as before?"

"Yes," he said, "we haven't changed a thing."

The blue-haired woman, realizing there was no common ground for diplomacy, allowed coldness to take over her expression. "Then there's no need for me to be polite, you can die," she declared, and with a word of power, "change," she readied herself to execute her sentence.

In a fraction of a second, she appeared in front of the man, the distance between them reduced to nothing.

The man, far from being an unresourceful opponent, exclaimed "Koi!" and immediately, as if summoned by his voice, a crocodile's head emerged from the ground aiming to bite the woman.

Without hesitation, the woman pointed her hand at the emerging crocodile and pronounced with authority: "Change!" In the next instant, the threatening predator dissolved into a swarm of harmless butterflies, which flew off into the darkness of the night, leaving behind only the glow of their wings in the moonlight.

The man, now at a safe distance, could not contain a sigh of surprise mixed with admiration. "I thought my attack would have some effect," he said, reassessing the situation, "but it seems I am far underestimating myself."

The blue-haired woman, whose posture betrayed no sign of effort after the quick exchange, looked coldly at the man. "You underestimated not only yourself but also me," she reproached with a voice that carried the certainty of one who knows their own strength. "It seems your organization has learned nothing from past mistakes. You continue to send pawns to face queens."

The masked man tilted his head, as if to acknowledge the point, but there was tenacity in his voice as he responded. "Every pawn has the potential to become a queen, given the right game," he retorted with an enigmatic metaphor.

"That may be true on a chessboard," she said, "but here, in the real world, things are different. There's no room for promotion when the game is about survival."

She took a step forward, and the air around seemed to vibrate with the imminence of a confrontation. The man, realizing that the distance between them did not mean safety, prepared for the next move.

"Then let's see if this pawn can surprise you," he said, an audible smile in his voice, even though his expression remained hidden by the white mask.

"Kai!" the masked man exclaimed, his voice resonating with hidden power. At that moment, a colossal crocodile rose above the blue-haired woman, its jaws opening in an attempt to crush the silhouette beneath it.

The woman, unshakable, looked up and said just one word, "Change." As if obeying a divine command, the crocodile quickly turned to dust, scattering in the wind before it could touch her.

The masked man, not giving up, shouted "Koi!" and another crocodile emerged from the ground vigorously, trying to swallow the woman with its open and threatening mouth.

"Change," the woman again pronounced, with the same calm authority. In the next instant, the crocodile was petrified, its menacing form now a statue of stone.

"Hold it there," she said, and with a powerful kick, she delivered an impact that shattered the stone statue. The pieces flew in all directions, some towards the masked man, who had to quickly dodge to avoid being hit by the debris.

"Change," the woman spoke once more, and in the blink of an eye, she disappeared, reappearing behind the masked man.

Surprised, but not defeated, the man quickly said "Kei," while making a swift hand movement, forming a sort of K in the air, a preparation for yet another of his unknown abilities.

Before he could activate the effect of his gesture, the blue-haired woman acted. With a quick and precise motion, she tore off the man's head. However, where the man's neck should have been, there was now a crocodile's head.

The blue-haired woman, with a flash of surprise in her eyes, observed the crocodile's head in place of the man's neck and sighed. "Switched," she murmured to herself, her voice still calm, but with a hint of recognition of her adversary's cunning. "He placed an invocation in his stead. I did not think someone from the eastern region would be involved with this organization."

Her eyes, now narrowed, reflected the purple moon above as she contemplated the implications of this new information. "Are you planning to do the same thing as before?" she questioned out loud, even though her opponent was no longer present to hear. "Know that you will not succeed, just as you did not before."

With that declaration, the blue-haired woman turned and began walking back towards the city of Águas Verdes. Her silhouette was a somber contrast against the night landscape, and as she moved away, the silence of the night returned to settle over the forest.

The blue-haired woman continued on her way. As she moved away from the scene of the confrontation, she began to speak out loud, although she was alone in the night.

"It's time to start training my daughter," she said with a hint of contempt in her voice. "She is becoming lazy, chasing after men and women without focus. Instead of dedicating herself to perfecting her skills, she gets lost in frivolous distractions."

There was an evident bitterness in her tone, a condemnation that extended to the young woman's father. "She takes after her father, unable to make a decision, to choose a path and follow it. It's no wonder she's like this, with such a volatile example to follow."

The woman stopped for a moment, as if the memory of something distant surfaced in her mind. "I wonder how she is doing now... This indecision, this madness of the young, much of it is her fault. That woman... she changed everything, at least in this region."

She looked up at the sky, where the purple moon cast a soft and strange light upon the land. "How long has it been? Three hundred years? I don't even remember anymore," she murmured, lost in her thoughts.

"It's time to start training my daughter," she said with a tone of disdain in her voice. "She's becoming lazy, spending her time chasing after men and women without focus. Instead of dedicating herself to perfecting her skills, she's lost in frivolous distractions."

There was clear bitterness in her tone, a condemnation that extended to the young woman's father. "She's like her father, unable to make up her mind, to choose a path and follow it. It's no wonder she's like this, with such a volatile example to follow."

The woman paused for a moment, as if a distant memory had come to her mind. "I wonder how she's now... This indecisiveness, this madness of the young, much of it is her fault. That woman... she changed everything, at least in this region."

She looked up at the sky, where the purple moon cast a soft and strange light upon the earth. "How long has it been? Three hundred years? I hardly remember anymore," she murmured, lost in her thoughts.

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