Presence B2C12

The being before us, be it God, woman or some demon, came with its own insidious presence. It washed over me like a wave of cloying nausea, except that it had a weight to it, for it forced me down onto one knee. The others were no better, some flat on their stomachs, as though held down from above, others on their backs, struggling for breath. Something deep inside me begged me to run. Something else told me to cry and huddle in a ball. It was an alien sensation, and one I had to clench my teeth together to fight my way past. It was a close call, even then. It felt like I looked into the eyes of death itself

[...]

"D-Damn you…" Yang tried to stand up, but only managed to push her shoulders a few inches off the floor before she slammed back down once more. My eyes sought out Blake, the strongest of us, but the Assassin was in no better a situation. Flat on her stomach, with one hand stretched out to try and reach her dagger. Even if she reached it, I doubted she would have the strength to throw it.

[...]

My hand shook as it wrapped about the hilt of Crocea Mors. The blade grated across the stone floor, and then clinked down before me as I tried to use it to leverage myself to my feet. It was to no avail. My muscles bulged and my skin turned red as I strained, but it was as though gravity itself had grown stronger.

"What…" Weiss struggled to breathe. "What are you?"

[...]

She looked towards us and chuckled. "Look, you already have worshippers prostrating themselves before you."

I scowled and tried to stand once more, but my armour weighed me down. My struggles only seemed to amuse her further.

[...]

It was slow at first, but it was Pyrrha's choked cough that made me notice the black mist which first crept across the floor, but then washed over it like a shallow stream. Some of it covered the others. They struggled to breathe when it did. I was saved, still on my knee with Crocea Mors held before me, but even I could feel the chilling touch of it through my greaves.

[...]

Something snapped within me. The sight of her above Ruby's paralysed form sent anger like fire raging through my body. I lurched to my feet, stumbled forward and slammed Crocea Mors down in an overhead strike. The blade clinked against the stone floor, chipping some aside as Salem floated back. "Get away from her," I rasped. My arms shook from the strain, and it only got worse when she regarded me with curious eyes.

"Oh my, how interesting… I've yet to find a Hero able to stand in my presence."

"Get away from her," I repeated, voice haggard. I felt like I could barely stay upright, and that my legs might snap under the weight of my own body. Even so, I squared myself and lifted my sword with both hands. The tip swayed from right to left. It was obvious I'd not be able to swing it. Fortunately, I didn't have to.

[...]

"People really should be careful of what they wish for," Salem said. She turned to face us. "I would love to stay and chat with you all a little more, but my presence here – and my obedience – is denoted by the little Mage's will. And that," she snarled, "is something that is broken. Pray that you do not see me again, children." Her eyes zeroed in on mine. "Pray that our paths do not cross, Deceiver." She flickered and vanished a moment later, in an explosion of air that threw my hair back and made me cover my eyes. When the dust and smoke cleared, it was to find that the overpowering presence had as well. My bones creaked as I stood a little straighter, the others clambering up as well.