"Fine. Let’s see what the terrible spawn of the heartless devil is up to."
He tapped a feed with his mind, selecting none other than Luna’s because the description of ’First-Person High-Velocity Feed [Warning: Extre Speed / Seizure Risk]’ made him curious.
The chairman’s perception lurched.
There was no gentle transition, no fade or buffer. One mont, he was seated behind reinforced glass and polished steel, the next, his awareness was inside motion itself, strapped to it, dragged along at impossible speed.
Wind scread.
No... space scread.
The world snapped sideways, then upside down, then folded in on itself as the horizon spun so violently it ceased to be a horizon at all. The chairman’s instincts flared instantly, mana bracing his mind, combat senses snapping into place before nausea could even think about forming.
Lightning exploded across his vision.
Blue-white arcs tore through the air in branching webs, detonating against armored monstrosities below or flying beasts above. Luna’s laughter thundered in his ears as her body was hurled boldy across the battlefield.
The realization hit him a fraction of a second before Nyx’s spatial distortion flared at the edge of perception, space itself bending like a clenched fist.
Luna beca a projectile.
The ground vanished, replaced by sky, replaced by ground again as she was slamd forward at absurd velocity. She twisted, not to stabilize, but to optimize, and released a burst of lightning at the exact mont Nyx redirected her trajectory.
Impact.
The collision was catastrophic. Lightning detonated outward, vaporizing armor and flesh alike, the shockwave rippling through the battlefield as Luna rebounded, already accelerating again.
The chairman exhaled slowly through his nose.
He now understood why the warning existed.
But more than that...
"What on earth is going on with the powers of these youngsters...?"
Space warped again, and Luna was flung sideways, then upward, then sharply downward, each throw tid perfectly with her attacks. She was a storm-tipped spear, a living lightning bolt, a screaming blur of speed and violence.
The perspective was brutal.
Vision tunneled, snapped wide, tunneled again. Peripheral detail beca suggestion rather than certainty. The sense of balance was a polite fiction that had been abandoned entirely. If the chairman hadn’t been who he was, if his mind hadn’t been trained to process combat data at absurd speeds, he would have blacked out already.
Instead, he rode it.
His jaw tightened as another spatial toss slamd Luna forward, her laughter crackling through the feed as lightning poured from her like a living corona.
"This is a fighting style I’ve never encountered before..."
And then he noticed sothing else.
A translucent overlay blood at the edge of perception.
Chat.
It scrolled aggressively, ssages flying by faster than most people could read, let alone process.
- StormSimp42: LET’S GOOOOOO ⚡⚡⚡
- ILasted10Seconds: Damn it, I vomited againnnn!!
- ILasted10Seconds: I was aiming for 12 seconds this ti!
- ThunderPriest: Ten seconds of bearing the weight of the thunderdo is a respectable feat, brother.
- ILasted5Seconds: Five again! Fuck! Never eat again before a Luna combat stream!
- MotionSicknessAny%: Rookie mistake, noob
The chairman’s eye twitched.
"This has gotta be a joke," he muttered.
Another spatial sling.
Luna spun, inverted, carving a glowing arc as she passed through an enemy rather than around it. Lightning detonated behind her, the world stuttering under the force, then she was violently flung again in the opposite direction, doing multiple spins while at it.
The chat lost its mind.
- BoltWorshipper: This is the most fun I’ve had in my whole life
- StormQueenOrBust: Throw us harder, Nyx!
- VolleyBALLER: This is my new sport. I feel dedicated!
The chairman watched, appalled, as a na appeared in chat, slowly, reverently highlighted by dozens of replies.
- ILasted30Seconds: Still here
The reaction was imdiate.
- ALL:
- ALL: NO WAY
- ALL: KING
- ALL: Teach us your ways!
- ILasted10Seconds: I kneel
- ILasted5Seconds: He is the chosen one
The chairman rubbed his temple.
"They are drawing in quite the eccentric crowd..."
"Oh, it’s mostly the gar girl, Luna," Grace explained with an amused grin on her lips, greatly enjoying how the president looked. "She’s quite the unhinged little thing, which resulted in her own dedicated fanbase growing into what it is today. They almost seem like a cult, just a lot more fun. Though the sa is true for the rest of them... They’re all varied in their personalities, grabbing the attention of a wide range of viewer demographics."
As if on cue, Luna was launched again, this ti straight upward, the sky tearing open as she broke the sound barrier. For a split second, there was nothing but blue.
Then Nyx yanked.
The drop was violent.
Luna scread and unleashed everything she had on the way down. Lightning cascaded like a waterfall, obliterating the battlefield beneath her in a blinding flash.
The chairman felt it.
The sheer abandon of it. The joy of speed. The trust implicit in letting soone else hurl your body through space at lethal velocity and knowing you’d be caught, redirected, and used perfectly.
Another chat ssage scrolled by.
- ILasted30Seconds: Still here
- StormCultist: HE TRANSCENDS
- MotionSicknessAny%: MODS PIN HIM
The chairman snorted despite himself, then cut the feed.
The first-person storm vanished mid-laugh, replaced by the sterile calm of the observation chamber. Reinforced glass. Readouts. Silence. He sat there for a mont longer than necessary, fingers steepled, eyes unfocused as if his mind were still recalibrating to a reality that obeyed rules again.
"Enough of that." With a flick of intent, he opened the broader interface and began cycling through the other povs.
Bastet ca first.
Heat bled through the feed even without sensory amplification. The battlefield around her was a scorched dominion, enemies crushed or reduced to ash under relentless, sun-bright pressure.
The chairman’s brow furrowed. "That level of area control at her expected level..."
Next.
Aria.
The temperature dropped.
Moonlight ruled her battlefield, cold and pristine, enemies slowed and dissected beneath layers of precise, relentless arcane geotry. Every spell landed exactly where it was ant to, overlapping fields of lunar force reinforcing one another with chanical elegance. Authority radiated from her. The battlefield obeyed because it had never been given permission not to.
"Such precision at her level..."
Nyx followed, and space itself beca negotiable.
Distances folded. Attacks missed because they were no longer aid at anything real as Luna was flung through space.
"Spatial authority without visible anchors or casting fras..." He exhaled sharply. "Unacceptable."
Calypso was worse.
There was nothing refined about it. No elegance. No restraint.
Carnage.
She waded through enemies like a force of nature given human shape, blows tearing through defenses that should have held based on her theorized level, abilities chaining together in brutal sequences that ignored conventional cooldowns or tactical pacing. Damage fed into montum, montum into more damage, until the battlefield was little more than shattered ground and fleeing remnants.
It wasn’t berserker rage. It was controlled brutality, tuned for maximum devastation.
"She’s sustaining this pace, all the damage she takes..."
"Because of him," Grace smiled. "He is the one who holds them all together, their anchor, the man who made it all possible. And his ’mysterious’ helper..."
"That miniature version of the bane of my existence, teaming up with the man who is quickly turning into the male version of that woman..." The chairman looked exhausted. He was so done with the Ashborns.
User Comments
0 comments from readers