*
How many times has she happened upon these set of doors? Their gaudiness was practically burned into her mind, if not for the fact that she forgets when she wakes up, she'd probably be so sick of these doors that she'd kick it down. So as she opened them, who is all this etiquette for? A queen that no longer sits upon the throne,
Still it is convenient. What she needed the most was intel from this era, intel that the previous Lastia held. Speaking of which, she had never seen what she wore before. It was a mix of an armour and a dress, nothing alien to the concept of magical girls. The skirt was short and didn't get in the way of her movements, hanging above her waist much like a cape instead. Naturally there was pants and more armour underneath, a shining head sat atop her knees with gleaming blood stained metal trailing down her shin.
Dirty. She couldn't say how, but she could tell there was the blood of numerous people on her clothes. Did she come back from a big brawl somewhere? It all made sense why this place was so desolate. Her country fell in war. Corpses were gathered and piled into the throne. She was the last one alive. In other words, the 'hero' on the other side was responsible.
"I've slain the foul demon king. No matter how many show up, I won't back down. For humanity, I must fulfill the obligations of the hero." (Vinia)
"Is that what I am? Sickening, repulsive, abhorrent. You hide your existence within lies, that is why your kind must be felled here." (Lastia)
Naturally she couldn't care less about heroes, demon lords or whatever. It was a trope that a demon king is accompanied by 4 heavenly kings. In reality, 3 had been slain and the 4th was a vacancy filled at the last minute. Eterna was no demon king, she was the human king. That's the only reason why there could be no reprieve for her, she killed someone respected by countless, protected and built the lives of countless more. The kind ruler that ensure human prosperity.
She determined that she couldn't protect humanity from the Primordial one, betraying humanity and decreeing its destruction. Was it so save her own skin? Or was there some sort of plan to deceive the Primordial one? Regardless, everyone would die if she had followed through. There was no pussyfooting around that.
She looked just like Vinia. She held a shining sword of pure metal, those fabled in legends wouldn't be stuck to blood. From white to black, the environment turns hot and her skin felt scalded. Lastia wraps her body in {Envy}, a bright red coating of light isolates her from the environment. Heat that could hurt a magical girl? She needed to be careful, she supposed she didn't need to heed it since she prechanted and defeated Vinia quite fast. After all... She can Assimilate to this level of heat just fine.
The world changes to another colour, her frequency shifted to another dimension. It was a trap, and it wasn't the first time she's been here. It was like a puzzle, Vinia's works of the arcane arts are like that, an art. There was always a key to the outside, traces of her that she could Assimilate and change into another frequency. This place reminded her of that time they fought in the subway lines.
She walks forward following the tracks under dim light. The track was a singular line down the centre of the tunnel, the walls were ultra smooth as shadows and reflections stretched to the edges of her vision. Needless to say, it was far different compared to the rail tunnels of her time. While the level of technology was high, people valued practicality in the modern era. The rails were underground and trains floated magnetically. Perhaps this civilisation prioritised aesthetics. It was also cheaper to build beautiful smooth stone ground over the rails than to outfit an entire tunnel's texture.
After less than a minute of walking, she stops by the side of a patch of wall. It was smooth, as usual, indistinct from any other area. However, {Envy} makes her extremely sensitive to any difference in information... Information like material, acts that conceal... She places her palm over the wall languidly, channeling magic into it. Instinctively, her energy followed a course set path and reached its target.
To maintain this different dimensional space, Vinia needed a connection. A contrast in frequency, a spot concealing it that gave the illusion this space was endless, a train tunnel like this was perfect for hiding. No one had broken out before, well no one had broken in like me though. She was too used to forcefully converting other people's frequency and starving them here. Time worked in an isolated manner here, if one couldn't escape forever then the instant Vinia trapped them there they were as good as dead.
That's why she could never fathom someone breaking out. Lastia pierced her unassuming back in one fell swoop with her greatsword. Without a pause she returned unaannounce and activated {Envy} with her blade, taking control over Vinia's bodily autonomy. She didn't need to control all of Vinia's muscles, she just needed one to put her nervous system stirring in stress.
With one upwards swing, Lastia took out her brain and opened a localised Oblivion Magia, confined to a small pocket of air to disintegrate her body. A grade magical girls can come back from a beheading at least once. With an enemy like this, there was no such thing as 'too careful'. Wiping off her sweat, she walked towards the throne. Strangely enough, there was a slight tinge of familiarity there. She could never invoke the memories she lost, but the feelings are carved deep into her nerves. Like an invisible fire sending her cells into frenzy, her hairs stood on end.
Even if she wasn't acquainted with the queen, her tear ducts would roll over and release on their own. There was an overwhelming urge to kneel before the corpse, but she knew better than to bend to the dream. These feelings no longer belong to her, she has moved past what occurred so long ago, rather this 'her' was entirely detached from the start.
... When did she start smiling. The corpse of the queen sat upon the throne, covered in copious amounts of blood. Creased upon her lips and chin, coagulated over her chest and hips. Her pristine white dress and burnt up frills decorated her like a fallen angel. That smile... It was like Arin. Then... Is this the Arin of the past, or the present? Did it matter?
"Take me... To where it all began. You've been observing haven't you." (Lastia)
This was Arin, yet it wasn't her. So Lastia took a guess. That 'this Arin' had seen every dream of hers, and only smiled because the dream had finally been completed.
'Sweet dreams' (Arin?)
She sounded the same too. But other than smiling, the corpse hadn't moved one bit. It was unsettling. That's when her world turned to black once more.