Kyla and Hugh stopped once they were ten feet from the Legionnaire. The armored king reached his hand up to pat Recheov on the shoulder as he stepped forward, but Recheov avoid it, stepped to the side sharply and spat on the ground disdainfully. The Legionnaire didn't break stride, though. Rather than address that, he took the necessary steps to reach Illorex. They shared words, the Legionnaire confident, Illorex exhausted, and ultimately it led to the Legionnaire reaching his hand forward slowly, armored fingers outstretched for Illorex's skull.
And truth be told, Dyss's interference was less potent than Illorex's, though-- which wasn't to say it it was useless. In fact, Dyss merely added to the effect . . .
Showing the most emotion that he'd displayed in what might have been months, Illorex glared at the Legionnaire's approaching hand. The armored digits were only inches from Illorex's face when the man snapped back, fueling his own power through Dyss's, filling the air before him with a powerful ultraviolet light. But that was only a side-effect. The primary effect, rather, was a surge of power, vaguely resembling a focused explosion. It kicked up smoke all before Illorex, forcing Toushikyo and Recheov to dart away and downwind. Even Kyla and Hugh released Illorex to take cover.
Illorex fell to his hands and knees, panting, but he ultimately forced himself to stand, however strained it might have been. All before him was smoke, kicked up and covering half of the road, carried by the wind to progress down the street with quick procession.
It took a moment for the smoke to clear, and contrary to Illorex's desire at the time, the Legionnaire was still standing. In fact, it seemed he hadn't done so much as budged from his last position. His arm was still half-extended and his hand was open. Black dust covered his armored arm, but it didn't seem to bother him . . . not even in the slightest. With scarce reaction to Illorex's lashing out, the Legionnaire dropped his arm by his side.
The Legionnaire took a step back and held his right arm out from his side, hand open and outstretched for nothing. A rush of wind raced through the street in a circular break, nearly bowling over the shaky Illorex. Toushikyo, Kyle, and Hugh came out from their cover, and Recheov joined them. He'd only stepped away, daring to not follow the lead of the others.
The wind cycled and focused to a single point, right by the Legionnaire's open hand, where it burst and sent a gale down each end of the street, leaving behind two new figures. They were both girls and Dyss only knew one of them. She was the vehicle for this, the traveler that brought the other-- the only Memory that could move at such radical speeds or wield any power over the air. A girl of the Terra clan named Akizetsumei. A girl most often identified as Toushikyo's "sister." She was a short and frail platinum blond (which was styled into lengthy pigtails that fell down to the middle of her back), but she was undoubtedly physically on par with a human twenty year old. She wore a tattered red and form fitting Cizokian dress and knelt by the Legionnaire's side.
Like Kyla and Hugh, there was something missing in her expression. Something lacking. But anyone who knew this girl would be able to see that much. Akizetsumei was one of the most energetic citizens of Memoria. She was consistently happy and did everything in her power to make those around her smile, even if her efforts were frequently in vain. She had a problem, of course, and it was known throughout Memoria: she had a memory span of five to ten minutes and nothing more. Even her long term memory was subject to inevitable loss.
Akizetsumei had her arm wrapped around another girl's shoulder. She was much more tattered that Akizetsumei. Beaten to a pulp, in fact. This one, Dyss would not recognize. She was over average height and wore her hair at shoulder's length. The similarities she shared with Illorex were absolutely uncanny, however. She wore segmented clothes just like Illorex: two different dresses sewn together in the middle. A casual dress on one side and a formal dress on the other. And just like Illorex, she wore a mask. The same type of mask-- the same design, the same size. Everything. Except while Illorex wore his over the right side of his face, this girl wore hers over the left.
There was something wrong with her, though. Something wrong beyond how beaten to a pulp she was. It was her essence. Her everything. It was as if she existed in a haze. Every color about her was muted. Her skin, her hair-- even her clothes, as if she was physically incapable of holding much color at all. The blue-gray shades to her body directly mirror the color of the two soldiers' armor, in fact.
Illorex could do nothing but stare at this girl, wide eyed and slack jawed. He tried to reach out to touch the girl, but as Akizetsumei stood up, the girl stepped back, out of Illorex's reach-- and rather than placing his hand upon her arm as he struggled to try for, he wound up taking the Legionnaire's hand, instead . . .
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