Victoria lifted both swords slowly.
Very slowly.
The cracked earth beneath her feet groaned as if reacting to her intent alone. Dust slid off broken stones in thin streams. The dead wind that haunted that ruined world seemed to hesitate.
The blades in her hands began to hum.
A deep, layered vibration. Not sound alone, but law—resonating.
Then power erupted.
Green light wrapped around her first. It was sharp and vivid, carrying the scent of wild forests and unchecked growth. It crawled over her skin like living vines, coiling around her arms, her waist, her neck.
Gold followed.
Not gentle sunlight—but divine authority. It pressed outward in waves, bending the air itself. The fractured sky above flickered faintly under its influence.
Blue surged next.
Cold. Vast. Endless. Like an ocean without a shore compressed into human form. Frost traced along the ground around her boots before evaporating into mist.
And finally—
Darkness.
Not the absence of light. Not shadow.
