Dimensional Descent

Blood.

The scent hung heavily in the air, tinting what should have otherwise been a clear atmosphere crimson.

Aina walked slowly through a plain that didn’t seem very special. It was flat, mostly barren of life, and it didn’t have the slightest bit of character to it...

Aside from the large castle right in the middle of it all.

Aina’s approach couldn’t have been more silent, but it also didn’t look like she was trying to hide her presence at all.

She was alone, accompanied by nothing more than the ax on her back and the leather armor on her body.

Her eyes were so emotionless that they were practically dull. They would have been had it not been for the resplendence of their golden hue.

But her brows remained flat, her lips gently pressed together, her neck proudly straightened, drawing a line right from the back of her head to her planted feet.

However... that scent of blood was only becoming more suffocating, more

omnipresent, until the blue skies above became purple... and then from purple, they became a deep rouge.

The change was so oppressive that even the sun that hung high in the skies trembled, dimming and becoming painted in crimson as well.

Despite all of the changes... one would have never thought that they were related to the beautiful young mother walking calmly across the plain.

Anselma’s eyes suddenly snapped open, her pupils constricting.

There was a slight palpitation in her heart that she ruthlessly suppressed, but the solemness between her brows hadn’t vanished.

Her head turned and her crimson irises flashed as she seemed to see through the walls of the palace.

”I see...”

Anselma slowly stood to her feet.

”This Founder’s Ax has returned home.”

...

Aina’s steps didn’t pause for a moment. She felt a gaze land on her, one that she

recognized intimately, but it might as well have been nothing more than air.

Her gait was even, so mechanically precise that it could be measured down to the exact millimeter without a hint of deviation.

The battle ax trembled on her back, greedily soaking in the bloodlust in the air. How many years had it been?

Aina’s expression finally slowed just the slightest hint of deviation, her head tilting up to the skies.

She had been not much older than her daughter was now when those matters took place. Being forced to experience the horrible fate of her mother, as she lost her life piece by piece to the sickening torture methods of the Brazingers.

She had bled more blood than she cared to count for, waiting for this day.

Memories floated by her thoughts one after another... days she would train until her body was too tired to even sleep properly... days she would swing her weapon so many times it felt as though her joints themselves had become calloused... days she used to shatter her own bones just to grow them back stronger.

Her training methods had only grown more devastating, more cruel... more

masochistic with every step she took.

And yet, it never felt like it was enough.

She always wanted to push further, press harder.

A light smile spread across Aina’s lips as a fond memory came to mind.

When she was younger, she used to have a terrible habit of biting her lips whenever she was agitated. She had grown out of that long ago, but it wasn’t because she had forgotten about it.

Every time she thought about doing so, she remembered words that maybe even Leonel didn’t remember saying.

”You shouldn’t do that...” Aina said softly. ”... You’ll scar your lip...”

She hadn’t known what to think back then, and it made her even more afraid to face Leonel with her real face. If he was worried about a scar on her lips, then what would he do when he saw what the Curse the Brazingers had placed on her had done? Still, she had, subconsciously or otherwise, stopped biting her lip after that day. Aina raised a finger to her bottom lip, a gorgeous smile blooming on her face. That short sentence completely recontextualized everything to her when Leonel didn’t care about her scarred face at all.

The scar wasn’t the problem. He just didn’t want her to be hurt.

It was a simple thing. So impossibly simple that even Aina felt a little silly that she was

thinking about it now of all times.

But it brought a broad smile to her face.

Indeed... she didn’t need to be that woman anymore.

Aina took another step and a pair of black wings grew from the small of her back. Her eyes became a deep abyss of black, her hair lengthening as a pair of horns formed.

Her temperament became more regal and overwhelming as a crackle of black

lightning peeled across the crimson clouds.

Okay... maybe she could be that woman only for a certain man.

”My babies and husband are waiting for me...”

Aina’s blooming smile suddenly became ice cold as she reached out a hand, her battle

ax slapping into her palm. In one fluid motion, she didn’t pause a single time as she

swung down.

A scythe of crimson tore into the ground, almost splitting the world in two. It appeared before the gates of the castle in a blink of an eye.

A ripple of red appeared, an invisible dome flashing into existence.

Scythe and dome warped around one another, a clash of Force twisting and pulling against one another.

Shades of red flashed around one another until.

BANG!

A bolt of black came from the skies, ripping into the barrier.

BOOM!

The barrier flexed like a rubber ball before it shattered completely, unable to

withstand the power.

Alarm bells rang through the Brazinger family compound and a large number of warriors shot into the skies, expecting to find an army that had suddenly appeared out

of nowhere.

But instead...

They only found a single young woman with an ice cold gaze.

And even then, it was only for a short moment.

Before they could react, dozens of heads had been bisected from their necks.

Blood shot into the skies and formed just as many blooming roses.

Today... she had come here to kill.