Hope born of solitus

*

Wiping her tears, she continued to run while caressing the indecision in her heart. Should she retreat? Then this zone would truly be finished. She didn't want there to be more victims, those that could still be saved should be saved. Then what about her? What about Sariel and Arin? Surely they would be sad when she's gone...

At the same time, there were those that no longer had people to feel sad for them. Her soles ached, but she had to keep running, a city sized Trace was trying its best to eliminate her, she still had so much more to do. Another sword flies from the sky. It was formed from the same black cloud that was leaking out of those buildings. It contained enough magic to slice a B ranked entity in one go.

"UUUUWAAAAAGHHHHH!!!!" (Lastia)

She twisted her ankle and pivotted around, leaping towards the truck sized sword with a war cry. Her fists had been gathering magic this whole time, this time... Perhaps it could reach the lower ranks of A rank. She was painfully ordinary, Rita might even be stronger than her, she just wasn't suited to fighting the Destitute knight. Even then, it took Lastia taking a fatal gamble to bring it down with Rita's support.

She swung her fist forward, crushing the tip of the blade. Cracks spread to the rest of its body before it promptly crumbled into numerous fragments, the fragments exploded back into black clouds that dissolved into the surrounding air. The Trace was unimaginably powerful, it spanned the entire city after all. Kilometres upon kilometres, innumerable casualties from this incident that cannot be reversed by 'Event'.

Her senses told her that this zone was densely occupied with residents, but that sensation she felt was the presence of their corpses, kept inside every building. Widespread, unpredicted, unseen. They must have died without being aware of it, that's why none of the surrounding zones have noticed. A Trace perfectly pulling off camouflage, it must have some sort of visual camouflage as well. It wasn't a commercial zone either, there was no traffic in and out of this place that would be tracked with skepticism.

Truly, despicable. She leaped forward with all of her might, once more the blade materialised in her palm. It extended as far as it could as she swung it, severing the few buildings that were nearby. Black smoke spewed out of the cracks as usual, oddly enough the buildings stayed in place without collapsing, even if they were cleanly cut through. They should slide off, but they stayed in place. Like the wounds of a living organism.

The smoke chased after her as she ran, taking a few more swings, she sliced apart the buildings that she came across. Faster, even faster...! More, she needed to cut down more! Her legs tire, but she squeezed out every bit of energy she had.

"RAAAGHH!!!" (Lastia)

She had to keep going, she can't let all the victims down... She needed to carry out revenge in their stead. Her wrist bent, driving her blade into every last building. They cry out with their black smog, nearly forming a tsunami chasing her as she ran further into the city.

One thing was clear. She must be a mage type rather than fighter, she always lost to others in close quarters. This was the sole difference between her and others, the power of {Feed} was unique. It effortlessly divided the landscape, absorbing any black smoke it came across and then left. It busted through the surface of any building, sliding past materials at an unimaginable pace that defied friction and resistance. In fact, it felt like her blade was only moving faster, as if the buildings were suck it up. It was instead harder to separate her blade after slicing into the buildings.

{Feed} begun to feed stamina into her body, {Feed} was the only thing that kept her body moving. It almost seemed unfair, but the Trace wasn't very fair to the people who lived here either. It clawed at her, her guilt, the massive weight of helplessness, the unrelenting cruelty of reality. Grasping, digging into her flesh, stretching it, pulling it apart. Her tears effortlessly flow past her cheek, obscuring her field of view, but she was too fast for the wave of black smoke.

'Why couldn't I have come earlier? Why only occur now?' (Lastia)

At least then, the 'Event' would have continued further, at least it shouldn't have ended this pathetically. Pivoting once more, she charged straight into a building. She could finally do this after slicing into the buildings enough... After investigating their composition sufficiently. The black smog rush to suffocate her... Only to vanish upon contact, as if it had burnt out of existence.

"I don't know if you have a core weakness located somewhere, but searching the whole city wouldn't be realistic..." (Lastia)

So she stayed here? To provoke it? The Trace had gained a considerable intelligence, leaving itself to be thoroughly puzzled that she stopped moving and even crashed into a building... She was within its body, yet it couldn't suffocate her, it couldn't even enter her body with its black smog. It couldn't understand just yet, because compared to it she was so puny.

She was coated in a thin layer of {Feed}, any black smoke that comes into contact is absorbed into sustenance. Just as she puny, the loss of black smoke was so small that it couldn't even tell anything was lost. She walked further into the building, gradually stepping up the stairs and entered a corridor on a upper floor. It was like any other apartment, filled with numerous suites and even more people.

Jamming her finger into the side of a door, she pried it open and took a few steps inside. The front was a small walkway that opened up into a large room after a few metres. This was where people placed their shoes before stepping in, seeing as the ground rises by around 5 cm right at the entry. There were no longer any occupants, so she kept her low heels on as she explored the living space.

There was a lone figure on the couch facing the opposite way from the door entrance. His shaggy hair covered his ears and neck as he lay at the centre. A television buzzed incessantly with repeated programmes in front of him, playing whatever happened to be airing on that selected channel.

"..." (Lastia)