Her cloak shimmered. Gold surged through her body like veins catching flame. Her aura didn't explode—it clarified. A silent pressure rolled out, sharper than any scream.

Zirah Wex stepped forward first, sword low but pulsing like a heartbeat. Glowing emerald scripture flickered across her skin—an ever-swirling sermon of combat and ascension.

"Let's not waste time with words," Tharnic of the Furnace growled beside her, molten light gleaming beneath his hood. "We bleed the blight of its light."

Destiny didn't blink. Her hood fluttered in the wind, a glint of gold at her collar catching the last rays of sunlight.

"Come on then."

Raetha Volne chuckled—a sound like rusted bells and weeping wood. She raised one red-sigil-laced hand and whispered.

"Break."

Destiny vanished.

No flash. No boom. No afterimage.

Just gone.

Zirah spun, sword slashing a defensive arc that lit the air green. Halnoth flared his wings, casting a radiant barrier as Crisper leapt back, pistols out, scanning for movement. Even Tharnic shifted his footing, hammer rising.

Then came the bloom.

The ground under Raetha detonated. Not with fire or force—with purity. Light like burning gold flared upward as a symbol beneath her cracked open and flooded the air in an instant.

Raetha shrieked as her sigils warped, turned against her by sheer proximity to Destiny's will. A hex backfired and bit into her collarbone, spiraling down her shoulder in red-hot pain. She staggered, then fell to a knee.

Crisper opened fire.

Twin bolts of rainbow-tinted Ryun danced toward the golden blur now weaving through falling ash. Destiny spun midair. She let the bullets hit—her aura pulsed, absorbing them, distorting them—and then returned them.

Crisper was fast. But not fast enough to dodge her own bullets twisted into spiraling spears of compressed will.

She cartwheeled back, one arm nicked, pistols smoking. "Yup! This is a boss fight!"

Crisper rainbow hair bouncing as she dropped in sideways from a hovering gunpad, dual pistols twirling. "Yooo, what's up stream! We are LITERALLY in a myth-tier boss fight right now! This chick got that Final Fantasy energy—look at her coat! Who even wears that in PvP!"

Her weapon wheel flicked open with a casual spin of her finger.

[Summon: Bullet Rain Mk.999]

[Summon: Mecha-Hydra Launcher]

[Summon: Yandere Confession Rocket (LIMITED SKIN)]

"Oh yeah, we're gonna style this one!"

Destiny sighed as she dodged the barrage. "This is going to be annoying." She then trapped Crisper in a gold dome.

"Hey! That's definitely modding!" Crisper exclaimed.

Zirah lunged, blade crackling as it fed on her devotion. Destiny met it mid-flash, golden shields forming in fractal fans around her. The two exchanged over three hundred strikes in four seconds—blade and fans ringing out like a symphony of war cries.

A pulse from Raetha ripped a crater in the square, blood sigils crawling from the cracks. Destiny tried to pivot, but her left shoulder exploded in blood—Raetha's curse had tagged her.

"Bones… do scream," Raetha whispered.

Destiny gritted her teeth and flashed forward past Zirah—her coat splitting as she slammed Raetha into the wall with a golden fist.

Raetha screamed a final hex, but Destiny caught it midair, crushed it into glitter, and drove a light-spear through her chest.

Raetha stumbled back, falling as her eyes rolled back and a waterfall of blood came out both ends of the puncture.

Zirah screamed, burning with fury. "Bitch did you ignore me!"

Destiny beckon at her to come.

Zirah snarled and surged forward, unleashing a flurry of scripture slashes—each one a spiritual technique meant to obliterate purity.

Destiny met them with clean footwork, her palms glowing brighter each second. Every blow Zirah made was caught, redirected, rewritten midair with counters so fluid they seemed preordained. A final pivot, and Destiny stepped inside Zirah's reach.

A palm to the chest.

Boom.

Zirah went flying—through a pillar, through the side of a stone building. She erupted into a pillar of green Ryun and charged forward. Destiny summoned a sword of light.

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Their blades clashed—only this time, Destiny shifted through Zirah's swing, twisted behind her, and with one brutal upward slice of golden Ryun, bisected her from hip to shoulder.

Zirah's sword clattered to the stone before dissolving.

Destiny exhaled. Then a hammer collided with her ribs.

Tharnic's strike sent her through twelve buildings, shattering masonry and snapping a steel beam like it was taffy. She tumbled across the ground, coughing, cloak torn, eyes flashing in rage.

She pushed up, blood on her lip.

"Shit that was cheap," she muttered.

Tharnic roared, then charged forward, a smoldering fury in motion.

His hammer struck the earth just behind Destiny as she flipped over him. The crater shook the bones of everyone watching. Magma spilled from the broken ground.

Destiny landed in a crouch, scooping up a shard of debris. Her eyes sparked as she charged it with energy.

Tharnic turned, too slow. She threw the shard and exploded it like a flash bang. In the nano-second he went to shield his eyes, she slashed him once across the back—not with a blade, but with a folded arc of Ryun shaped like a crescent scar.

He dropped to a knee. "That… all you got?"

"No," Destiny said. "Just the warmup."

She whirled, just in time to block Ser Halnoth.

Feathers of divine steel burst outward as the Pale Wing slammed down from above, his sword a blur of silver light. His power was clean—resolute. And when their strikes met, the impact rolled across the battlefield like a bell tolling over a dead city.

Destiny staggered.

He pressed the assault.

"Your divinity is counterfeit," he said, wings booming outward. "Your power borrowed!"

Destiny caught his next strike with a golden gauntlet of Ryun. "And your wings are clipped."

She threw him—wings, armor, and all—straight up. A thousand feet of sky devoured him, before her second palm lit up and a beam of compressed light roared upward like judgment.

A star exploded above.

Another flash—

Halnoth descended like a meteor, blade raised, wings blazing with divine fury.

Destiny responded with a shockwave of pure kinetic light that disintegrated the earth beneath her. They clashed mid-air, swords spiraling in an orbit of force and will.

But the knight was strong.

Strong enough to make Destiny bleed.

He blew her through a tower. And pinned her to a wall, his sword against her throat.

"I was exiled for doubting gods. Show me you're not a mistake."

She smiled, blood between her teeth.

"You first."

Then she reversed gravity in the space between them, slammed him into the ceiling of the tower—and, before he could stabilize, drove a burst of Ryun behind him. The impact collapsed the upper floors.

He hit the ground below with a scream.

She dropped after and landed on his chest.

No words.

Just a single point of light through his visor.

He went still.

Tharnic barreled in—his whole body engulfed in molten light, Ryun-enhanced strikes shaking the entire district.

Destiny met him blow for blow, her fists glowing brighter with each impact. Her ribs cracked. His arms burned. The area became a ring of broken stone and fire.

Then she spun.

Palm strike.

To his core.

His hammer flew one way, his body another.

He hit the ground hard—and stayed there, groaning, still alive, but out cold.

Destiny dropped to one knee. Her aura flickered. Her ribs were broken. Her shoulder was bruised. Her temple bled. Her vision blurred slightly—

And then Crisper walked forward.

"…Still up? Yeesh. You're a unit."

Destiny looked up, breathing hard. "You're not going to monologue?"

Crisper smirked, guns spinning. "Nah. I'm just here for the clip."

Then came the chaos.

Spectral dogs summoned from neon tags.

Gravity bombs that bent her light.

Twin rifles that fired tracer rounds shaped like wolves.

Destiny dodged—sloppier now. Her coat flared as she redirected a barrage with a makeshift golden dome, but Crisper danced in the chaos, blasting away like it was a Saturday stream.

"You're good," Crisper panted, laughing as she ran up a falling chunk of wall. "Like, scary good. But girl, I'm gamified."

Destiny laughed through the pain. "That… was the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

They clashed again—Ryun arcs vs holo-bursts.

Crisper—bleeding, limping, hair half-scorched—raised one last pistol.

"Screw it. I do want the loot."

Destiny appeared behind her.

Fingers glowing.

Crisper froze.

"…You gonna kill me?"

"No," Destiny whispered. "You're fun."

Then she backhanded her into a wall.

The battlefield fell silent. Civilians stared. Freelancers slowly backed away.

Destiny exhaled as her hood dropped, sweat glistening at her brow. "Now. Who else has a problem?"

No one answered.

From the crater's edge, some of the fleeing freelancers turned back to watch. Civilians peered from behind cracked towers.

Destiny stood in the ruin's glow, wind teasing the edges of her scorched cloak, golden embers drifting like fireflies around her. Her gaze lifted to the scattered civilians—dirt-smudged faces peering from windows, alley gaps, and behind shattered barricades. Their eyes weren't grateful. They weren't even relieved.

They were afraid.

And worse—some even disgusted.

She took a slow step forward, blood still sliding down the side of her temple. "You're safe now," she said, her voice even. "They're gone."

A child was pulled back behind a broken door.

A woman spat near the edge of the rubble.

One older man pointed a shaking finger toward her chest—toward the golden serpent stitched across the back of her cloak.

"Vari."

That word carried weight. Not reverence. Not awe.

Loathing.

Destiny's lips pressed into a thin line. She didn't say anything. No argument. No plea. No demand for thanks.

But in her mind, she did imagine wiping the street clean. Just for a second. The power tickled her fingers, responding eagerly. One gesture, and they'd vanish.

But she closed her hand. Slowly.

She sighed and turned her back on them. "Bite the hand, see if it feeds you next time," she murmured. "I wasn't here to save anyone anyway."

This was boredom. Not really morality. A passing flicker of conscience, not obligation. If they hated her, that was fine. This wasn't her kingdom. She didn't need worship. She just needed to keep moving.

Her eyes landed on Crisper's crumpled figure amid the debris.

"Definitely a outlander," she muttered, stepping over a shattered beam. She crouched beside them, noting the faint pulse of glowing status symbols flickering along their gloves.

Still breathing.

Still twitching.

She smiled faintly. "V-Tuber energy…definitely a streamer," she said, scooping Crisper up by the collar like a wet cat. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood and that you're adorable."

They groaned faintly, blinking as consciousness returned.

"Ugh… what hit me? Was it a nuke? Was it a cutscene?"

Destiny raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You're my teammate now."

"Huh?"

"You heard me. Congratulations. You've been recruited into the Vari labor department."

"…Did I just get enslaved?"

"Only if you suck. Otherwise, you're my sidekick."

"…This feels like a trap."

Destiny smirked and kicked off the ground with her golden wings, soaring into the air with Crisper dangling behind her like a disgruntled streamer-shaped backpack.

"Relax. We're gonna go find some purple gems and fight some strong bosses. Doesn't that sound fun?"

"Wait—can I at least get a shoutout before we—?"

"No."

And just like that, they vanished into the clouds—leaving behind scorn, dust, and a city that had no idea it had been spared.

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