Walking Disasters and Me

After a few minutes of emptying my stomach due to unabashed terror and fear, sensations that had almost become foreign to me before the climactic meeting of Sandra Dufort, I finally manage to still my quaking heart and trembling hands. Though the memories of her outbursts, both as she levied such devastating words that I growingly see as truths as well as her parting visage that shook my soul, still remain in the forefront of my mind.

At first, I was combative to her assumptions. Who would not be? A cultivator at the very precipice of Immortality - at the height of mortal power - being talked down to by someone centuries her younger. Scolded, berated, and having your faults violently brought to light with naught but heated words. But... the longer I sit with those words, venomous and spoken with a harshness that would make any blizzard ashamed... the more I feel their certainty settle inside of me.

I clench my hands as they rest on the ground, frustration welling within me as I stare at the silver-white liquid I expelled. I have failed Amelia. This much I have known already, but the extent is now made laughably plain by a call to reality given by an enraged and near blindly devoted sister in Amelia's defense. Not only have I failed her as a mentor, but I have also failed her as a soulmate. Brief though it has been so far, I unwittingly treated her as... Not quite the same as Zephyria, but at least as someone who has lived the whole of their life on Mara.

Forgetting how fragile and new this reality is to her, partially due to just how well she seems to always be capable of adjusting and growing. Learning and fitting into the mold she has begun to make for herself. A foolish, arrogant carelessness on my end. To make light of just how often she has stumbled and fallen in that process. Tear filled moments spent in my arms, or those of our lovers, as she ironically struggled to do what I just praised her for. Conflicting world views, realizations of loss, confusion, fear. At herself, and the world in general. To let some antiquated sense of duty and process take precedent over ensuring her wellbeing.

How I managed to overlook such things, instead focusing on matters that just moments ago seemed so important that are now merely after thoughts... I sigh as I stand, my knees having given out as my mind buckled under the stress and weight of Sandra's overbearing nature.

I know I had said as much before being escorted here... but it truly is astounding that through everything, even this painful event I am about to witness, Amelia has remained steadfast and kindhearted to her core. Forgiving, loving, and generous with her time and words. That she still loves and cherishes me despite everything I have unintentionally done to wrong her. A fact I now see even clearer after her incensed sister's verbal tirade and show of unquestionable power. Another concerning factor in this equation, but one that must be put off until I can assure my dearly beloved Amelia that I will always love her.

I gingerly hold the tome in my hands, scooping it from where it rested after I had fallen to the ground. Even in this closed state, I can feel the anguish hidden inside its pages. A pain so deep and horrid, so out of her character, that it birthed a heart demon of wicked intentions. A manifestation over a topic she herself was only just beginning to become comfortable with, in a sense. A broken axel on the rushing chariot of her progress, splintered and sundered by my inattentiveness and failure to control myself.

I sigh once more, the trepidation at seeing what is on the other side of this cover stilling my hands for a moment. Samantha had of course told me everything that transpired in the now destroyed control room upon our rushed arrival, my fraying emotions stilled enough by her words and the assurance of spirit Ios. The 'bunker's' - as the sisters describe it - survival from Amelia's Intent induced wrath only possible due to the prior activation of its structural defensive runes.

From what Samantha described, if Amelia's outburst had occurred anywhere other than that room, much of the Village would have likely been in danger if not outright destroyed. The only thing preventing both Samantha's more aggressive techniques as well as Amelia's Berserker form from activating her own in turn likely being the confined space that lent itself more to close quarters combat than region damaging effects.

Aside from the martial aspect, Samantha of course also described what the Intent lost Amelia did as she secured victory... While tragic beyond words, both for Amelia and whoever was destined to be her target, again due to my failures, I am at least thankful that it was Samantha who became her opponent and unwilling conquest. Her... proclivitiesgreatly aided in her holding no grudges or even discontent toward Amelia after the fact. If it were not for Amelia's mind state in the first place, she told me, she would have been perfectly fine with what transpired. The reason she initially pleaded for her to stop was because she knew Amelia did not want such an event to be their first pairing together.

She was also wary of the mind manipulation done by two skills that I had thought been deactivated. Something that it seems Amelia can control even when she is not in control herself, and a worrying concept. Charm - the natural kind, not the boon from her system - is just as deadly a weapon as a blade when used in the right hands. Or when it is so overpowering, any hope to resist becomes futile. And Amelia's skill-based version seems to fit into the latter criteria if it even affected Samantha. From what dear Samantha described, however, it seems to have only made the experience more... enjoyable for her. When coupled with her own tendencies.

All in all, a rough and bloody conflict brought to an end by a more than forceful application of sexual prowess. Something that is almost exclusively a desired outcome for Samantha, and almost equally as dreaded for the current Amelia. Hopefully, she can forgive herself enough after I assure her that my position regarding our bond and love has not changed so that she and Samantha can discuss that matter fully. Again, in hopes that it further assuages her guilt at what transpired. And to ease the influence of the malformation at her heart.

With nothing - and everything - left to ponder further, I steel myself and prepare to open the tome containing the memory. While Samantha - as well as myself and the girls - may see this event in a certain light, I have no doubts that what I am about to witness will be tragedy incarnate. A harrowing event seen and felt from the perspective of Amelia. Every thought, rushed emotion, and realization just as intrinsic and natural as if it were to come from my own mind.

And while that is a frightening prospect, I will not fail her again. No matter what I am about to experience, I know in my soul that nothing will shake my resolve to right my wrongs. To love and cherish her as she does me, regardless of what she has done or how she views herself now. To be the unwavering support that I had promised her yet struggled to be so far.

With a final breath, my hands open the bound book, its pages flipping in a unseen wind as a massive, glass rectangular shape appears in the hollow of the wall. My mind being filled with thoughts not my own, emotions foreign but easily identifiable as Amelia's as said screen comes to life in impeccable detail. As if viewing the world through her eyes, the memory begins just outside of the control room.

Her sudden outburst toward spirit Ios, likely from when I snapped at that arrogant flame cultivator. The panicked worry, not only for herself but for me, as the stone doors slowly gave her entry. Her care, even in this state of duress, aching my heart as the scene continues to unfold. The confusing and overbearing swirl of emotions as she was feeling my rage and hatred begin to bubble forth before I turned that side of the continent to ice.

And finally... The moment I feel her mind snap and break. The scream of fury, raw and primal. Untethered and powerful as every color aside from red fades from existence. And it nearly destroys my heart with forlorn sadness. The precious, sweet, caring Amelia unmoored from her own psyche, lost in the turbulence of emotion not her own. A beast burdened only by the bellicose beauty that is death and destruction taking hold of her mind. Her body. Tears fall from my face as I watch her strike her feet into dear Samantha, the lust for battle and blood the overbearing and only emotions left in her ruined, maddened state.

The destruction, wanton and incredible. The initial hit to Samantha's abdomen, the pure elation at sinking her clawed hand deep inside of the muscled stomach as Samantha coughs blood. The feral hunger as she attempts to viciously bite into the wounded woman before she is briefly stricken back. The delight and thrill of supping the red iron liquid from her weapon, a micro release of pleasure shuddering her body before the conflict begins anew.

A peak 2nd Ranked cultivator - albeit in three paths of cultivation - easily going strike for strike with a woman nearly at the half-step. Becoming victorious, even, as Samantha tries and fails to defend herself from the sudden ambush by an enraged beast dripping in blood-lusted ecstasy. Even the usage of a body technique by the back peddling Samantha does not avail her, as the Berserk Amelia simply transitions from reckless violence to measured mastery with her scythe.

If it were not for the obvious fact that Amelia is lost in this moment, it would honestly be praiseworthy. No hesitation on her part as she narrowly misses a strike of the curved weapon to Samantha's neck. A perfect defense of the resulting counterattack, parried by the shaft of silver metal as she spins the weapon with an intimate knowledge. Excellent usage of her own strengths, easily noticing that while she may not be able to physically overpower Samantha any longer, her speed and ferocity keep her in advantage.

However, all of that is belied by the swell of unsatiated stricken blood. The juxtaposed glee at a thrilling fight met with the disappointment of the red liquid not flying free until eventually, Berserk Amelia has had enough of her want being kept at bay. After countless high-speed engagements, flurries and flashes of steel and blade being met by each other before resetting and tangling once more, the enraged woman does something that makes my eyes widen.

Even in her lost state, she is able to utilize her fascinating talent at inscriptions. As she retreats from another exchange, she dismisses and then resummons the scythe too fast for Samantha to track. Or me. The only reason I notice is because I am viewing reality through Amelia, and she is still required to think about the administered change. A series of glyphs holding enough strength to level the estate twice over etched onto the pointed metal of her now supremely dangerous weapon.

Not only could Samantha not notice the change at first, but she also seems to have no time to realize what danger she is in. Something that sparks a maelstrom of pleasure and glee through the maddened Amelia as instead of evading the strike, Samantha goes to block it. A cacophonous *Boom!* shakes the entire room as the tip of her scythe makes contact with Samantha's shield, what was left of furniture and artefacts destroyed in an instant as both their bodies fly apart from each other.

Amelia, having already known the outcome, twists and recovers in midair, summoning her bow. And, to my horror, the dreaded 'heat seeking missile' she drunkenly displayed with pride many days prior. Only this time, there is not a surface of the gleaming metal untouched by her inscriptions. Symbols, lines, and glyphs beyond measure and purpose inscribed on every square inch of its terrifying body.

With a barely subdued cackle, she looses the implement of destruction, mania spiraling into bliss as the arrow flies through the air on the thunderous *Crack* of the breaking of sound. As the bolt travels its scant distance to Samantha, she instinctively raises her [Adamantine Bulwark], a defensive skill that is nearly impenetrable when positioned correctly. The resulting contact from the devastating ammunition and the immovable wall creating a shockwave that ruptures the eardrums of the madly smiling Amelia.

Once more my eyes widen in shock as she flares a new technique for the briefest of moments, just long enough to avoid the worst of the collateral damage back to her. "[Aegis of the Void]." she whispers under her breath, barely audible but still enough to summon a massive black shield in front of her hand, its distorting energy blocking wind and debris as it flies toward her.

Barely a second passes before she dismisses it, content to let the remaining barbs of wind strewn steel, and stone, and wood scar her quickly healing form as she stalks forward. The rush of blood circulating faster as dampness begins to drip from between her legs, licking her lips in eager anticipation.

Somehow knowing victory close at hand, I feel as she does her want for blood shift and mold. Desire changing from pure animalistic fervor to that of carnal release as her thighs become slick. To take what she sees as her prize. To force her prey to submit to her, to see Samantha drown and beg for pleasure as she writhes underneath her. To match the violence displayed thus far as she conquers the mind and soul of her worthy opponent. To bend her to her will forever.

The pure, overwhelming lust on display nearly enough to make a small moan spill from my lips. My mind fighting desperately against it, as I know that is the last thing Amelia would want me to do. Instead, I refocus my attention not on her emotional state, but back to the physical world as she taunts Samantha who is still hidden by her green metallic wall. My eyes flashing in astonishment as she uses that new technique to simply... walk through said wall. An impossible thing, yet she does it all the same.

There, the scent of fear brings the Berserker to a new height of ecstasy, Samantha's pleas to stop once more music ringing in her ears. The brutality as she lets the last attempt at defense from Samantha bite her flesh, securing her hold on the sword hand of the surprised woman. The crush of metallic skin like it was paper, a pool of wetness sundering Amelia's undergarments as Samantha cries out in pain. Only then to be robbed of her shield after her sword clatters to the ground, kicked back into the same wall that began this fight as her head briefly falls limp to the side.

The fading of her metallic protection as the Berserk Amelia tells her of her new motives and activates [Charm] and [Otherworldly Beauty] in tandem. Unrestrained carnal delight as Samantha begs for her to stop before she is silenced by a tongue invading her mouth. The animalistic rutting followed by the spilling of blood as Amelia rakes her nails down to the perky breasts no longer hidden by cloth.

The river of desire flowing from between her legs as Samantha begins to become aroused, being restrained by the shifting silver weapon. The shift to standing as Amelia grinds the pride out of Samantha's flower and mind, recklessly rocking her hips against the defeated women until she submitsto her. And it does not take long, the change in stance enough to send Samantha over the edge, Amelia followed soon after as her victorious juices mix with the defeated liquid of the woman below her. Their combined rain showering the humiliated Samantha.

The thrill of victory, of securing a vigorously fun toy. The lusty desire to continue to break her, to rip her of sanity until she screams for the tearing of her flesh and press of their sexes. With one last task to hand, the swaggering Berserker informs the gasping women of her fate, heart singing in wonderous delight as she fully submits to her. She will mark her, make sure she - and any future threats - know she is owned. That she is hers.

The sinking of her teeth into the weary and subdued Samantha is the final straw. Both for the Berserker and for Amelia. As Samantha's blood pools in her mouth, greedily being supped from as she moans headily from the experience, Amelia finally regains her sanity. The crushing wave of terror, confusion, and nausea that ripples from her regained consciousness shatters my heart. Silences the unbidden drenching of my own flower between my legs at the previous events, a puddle of my liquid release pooling under my feet and dribbling down my thighs.

The unbridled fear, at herself. Her actions. At Samantha's state and her no doubt coming reaction. At the blood still coating her hands, staining her lips. The metallic flavor heavy in her mouth and caking her teeth.

A primal feeling erupts in her again, but not one of lust or violence. Of unmitigated panic and dread. Her feet stumbling and wobbling their way past a pool of Samantha's blood as she rushes haphazardly to the exit. Desperation to leave as quickly as possible as she mightily yet futilely slams against the closed stone door. The overbearing terror at the prospects she now thinks are before her. Of having to leave the estate, of losing those who she considers family now and loves wholeheartedly. Of having Sandra disown and recoil from her after she learns what she has done.

That alone is enough to finally break me. The pure, unadulterated heartbreak at what Amelia sees as an unforgiveable sin. Something she dreads will rob her of her beloved sister and true soulmate. The horror of supreme isolation because of what she has done this day. My knees give way beneath me as I sob without care.

My own heart too shattered at what I am experiencing. Too close to my past feelings of when I lost Zephyria. The fear of utter loneliness and loss that I experienced at that time, being mirrored almost perfectly just from how terrified Amelia is at her worried imagination at how things may proceed. And while some images of that tragic and harrowing night come to mind, my priority and focus continues to be at the scenes unfolding on the screen ahead of me.

The creation of the heart demon, its vile words feeding and stoking her fears. The just won sanity threatening to disappear again as its malformed malice drips into her mind on poisoned words.

Of Samantha's struggling attempts to calm her, of the absolute desperation to avoid her. Scared that she will only hurt Samantha more. Scared of herself first, and her consequences second. The demon's words as Samantha tries to assure her of her innocence at what has transpired before finally breaking through to Amelia who devolves into a whimpering, apologetic mess.

The rush and release of every emotion under creation as she sobs and cries and apologizes to Samantha who simply caresses her lovingly in return. Carries her back to bed where she soothes her with a lullaby from her homeland.

A calming balm that eventually brings the memory to a close as Amelia finally drifts off to slumber.