Rift 5

[20:55] This wasn't just a fight about a blade, no. This was a fight that signified all of Rindou's life. Everything she had built up. Everything she was. Everything she wanted to be. Everything people hated her for. Before her stood an individual who could use space itself at his will to shift around the world. This was a being who's arcane powers were far more developped than what Rindou's pathetic attempts at becoming a proper magi were. This was a being who could defy death itself and challenge Rindou in every single way.

Holier than all.

Rindou Sakamoto advanced forth, braving tempestine winds, holy flames, healing electricity, marble assaults, and a blade that should be hers. Six cuts, all consecutive - for each arm to be disabled, for no defenses to be laid before her.

The sin's light grew to an unreal level. Her eyes kept on her prey, on her target. Her body was moving not by with her thoughts, but with her desires. This fake, this copy of a blade that she held within her hands shifted between each and every shoddy shape those so-called legendary weapons held. Each and every single one of them alternating as she aimed to plunge that weapon deep, deep within the man's chest.

Amber eyes turned green.

She carved into her heart, craving the power he held, the talent that was beyond any reasonable doubt going to make her a better magi, an unstoppable force once she'd master it. Her lips parted, a whisper escaping her.

"Give... me... everything."

She wasn't only trying to draw his powers into her, no. It wasn't merely her almost... absorbing that being, she was going to make him suffer. To make him pay for what he possessed. Only what he possessed.

Her weapon tore into more than his chest cavity, ripping the lifestream apart and taking her time as she aimed to use him as a living, unwilling guinea pig for her experiments, for her training.

To see how long one could live when reality was torn from within them.
(Rindou Sakamoto)
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[21:00] {NARRATION} And so he suffered.

The man who replicated every legendary sword he held was torn to shreds, one arm at a time. His blood did not splatter, for it was merely consumed by her rifts. The screams he made were drowned out by the sound of tearing coming from where the lifestream was ripped. Perhaps, were he fighting someone else, he could've escaped, or maybe even regenerated.

But he fought someone who could tear him asunder, the pieces thrown into the void between worlds.

When all was said and done, nothing remained of the man.

Only the sword he attempted to steal, and failed miserably to do so.
[21:06] This was how it felt to be strong. This was how it felt to have absolute, undeniable victory before the toughest of foes. This... was what Rindou was capable of. This was Rindou Sakamoto's moment of glory. A moment lived alone. A moment she couldn't share with anyone. Such was the fate of the sin of envy...

She reached out for the weapon that was hers - the weapon meant to be hers. This was it. This was the blade. This was what she had been waiting for, what she had deserved, what she needed. What she wanted.

Ten - more than ten years in the making.

And finally she held it within her grasp, Masamune.

She swung the weapon at the open rift, already tainting it with her own vile influence, attempting to open a way to leave this shrine, to exit beyond the back wall. This was training, both for her and her weapon. To make it worthy. To make it understand where it stood.

She tore open that rift.

She stepped forth.

She was gone.
(Rindou Sakamoto)