"Happy to be alive? Hmmm, why don't you repay me? I sacrificed my life for your shenanigans" Anne was enraged, because of all the suffering she went through, just because Michael couldn't have told her before doing all that, it wasn't just about her confusion, the time she went through, all that to see his crooked smile, through hell she traversed and she even met that monster in her mind, she didn't know how to say it all, she didn't even know how to think of it all, yet it all clicked, she would never have negative thoughts about Michael, even if he risked her life, he still saved her a lot, even if it was by providing knowledge or shelter, the time in the first hell, he already saved her corpse from that forest, it has appeared to her, after death, her mind was weak once again, to let IT take control...
Her blood boiled, this time because of her, realizing her weakness, she was determined to defeat IT, to make sure of her safety—of her revenge. Anne looked once again at herself, then shouted, "Spar with me." Michael, from above looked obviously confused, why would a human want to fight a lower essence god? Maybe she wanted to test her strength? No, there are many safer and better ways to do that, even if she was holding a blade even he doesn't have the qualification to hold, that doesn't mean he's weaker than her at the moment. Thoughts ran through his head, theory after theory, his guard was down, Anne charged, before he could react, her blade already next to his neck. Anne swung with every joint, every bone, every muscle had a part in it, creating massive force, yet it couldn't even leave a scratch on Michael's neck, just a loud boom, and her blade stopping before rebounding back at her.
Michael stared at the contact point of the blade, before mumbling to himslef, "The form was excellent, the edge alignment was phenomenal,but the contact point was too far down the blade's spine, being a greatsword, that had really decreased the overall force, spreading most of it to the handle." Then, he laughed to himself, "Not only have I gotten his power, but his knowledge too, truly, I haven't just gotten his essence, I am him." Michael glanced at the greatsword as a crack developed slowly from the base of the blade, but his attention was diverted quickly, he started scratching the area that was hit, he scratched till it bled, the skin was peeling off slowly, dropping to the ground, leaving her vision. In its place a clump of muscle and raw meat barely holding itself together, the meat was bruised and the muscles were torn, the crimson spat out of his shoulder, like an injured beast, was held back by an invisible barrier. "Even that much brute force could kill me. If I was still a mortal."
The purple hue of the meat beaten to a pulp by her very hands made bile rush up Anne's throat. The meat started detatching from the bone, the muscles ripped in strands, his skin stretched, the gnarly mess started to clump together, into a "meatball" of sorts. The gaping hole left there exposed his trachea, a fatal weak spot, yet he didn't care, his eyes fixated on the clump, using invisible strings, the object slammed into the hole in his neck, conjoining with the alive cells, healing slowly. The veins started connecting, the muscles started rebuilding itself, with every second, Anne's mind was twisted more and more. The perfect being like a god could have such an imperfect method of healing? No, it was more than imperfection, it was grueling to see a scene like that. She couldn't look away, but she couldn't stand it.
Anne still tried to stand up, before she noticed it, Michael was glaring in her direction, but not at her. The crack on her sword was slowly growing, by the time she noticed it, she was already defenceless. If she had noticed it just a bit earlier, Hells' Dancer might have healed in time, now the tables have turned, it's her time to cower in fear. Michael lunged at her, eyes full of pity, mumbling to her, "I don't even qualify as a minor essence god, yet my strength is more than tenfold of yours, your hopes are set to high, to be able to spar me, you could be the strongest mortal on these lands." His eyes narrowed, ready to strike. "Though without a weapon, whats the worse" Anne though to herself, yet like a curse, it was painfully false, his fist travelled faster than the air could spread out, condensing the few water molecules in the air, vibrating and then condensing, melting then freezing, the air lit up in a flash, the bright light blinded her, the heat scorched her skin, she could only hope to listen to the booming sound and dodge it.
The punch came, roaring like a dragon, yet the hit never came, she opened her eyelids carefully, Michael stopped in front of her body, barely touching a strand of hair, "Well, didn't we say it was a spar?" Michael commented, like mocking her, "I don't want my 'savior' to die now, would I?" Sarcasm filled his every word, enraging Anne, like provokation, but she knew it all too well. Every word was a trapped laced with deadly poison, she knew, if she were to say anything, she would've given Michael a reason to kill her. "Quite a big heart of yours, no?" Anne flipped the script, "Knowing when to stop, that is quite a good thing to know." She mocked his failed attempt, this time her voice was stable, strong, like she was ready for anything to come her way.
"Even if you were a hundred times, no, even if you were a thousand times stronger, you wouldn't even get to see the after-shadow of my true self." Michael clenched his fist, his knuckles bone-white, the veins on his arms bulged up, ready to burst. He stopped suddenly, thinking to himself, before glancing up at the top of the tree, "Those three millennia with me didn't let you down, now, don't stop me." Talking to someone... To something, it felt like he wasn't truly free, just like her.