white dust yo

Sheathing her sword again, she cast it aside but kept her power flowing through it—it would waste away entirely in a few more moments, but she needed those moments.

And in its place, she brought out her trump card—a blade of purest white, the only one of its kind she had. While she could afford to carry duplicates of most kinds of Dust, there were several varieties that were too hard to come by to allow that. Thanks to her power, she had other ways of getting what she wanted, but even then, finding enough of certain kinds of dust to make an entire blade could be a challenge. White Dust in particular was a severe chore to acquire in such quantities, especially with the limits to its use. But every now and then, it proved itself worth having. In her lifetime, this was the third such blade she’d owned and the previous two had saved her life.

Hopefully, this one would live up to their standard.

Taking a deep breath, she lifted her sword and called to the power contained within it.

In an instant, there was nothing left in the world but her. Everything around her flickered once and then went black, fading utterly from her sight. The light of the portals, the sky, everything—it all just seemed to cease to be. The only thing she could see, the only thing she could sense, was herself and the blade she held in her hand—and even that was changing. The white Dust of the blade seemed to corrode, shattering and breaking apart in a matter of moments as if it were falling to…well, to dust. The physical matter that had composed her blade was gone, completely and utterly.

But in its place was something else, like a light in the darkness. It embodied the same space, held the same shape, still looked like a swords edge—but it wasn’t. Instead, this was the state her Semblance took when exposed to white Dust.

It was a portal in the shape of a sword. For a long time, she’d though that it was nothing but an opening, that there was no other side of it, but her time with Jaune had changed that. Where the portal led to, she still wasn’t certain, but it had something to do with the Light Jaune drew several of his own skills from. And now that she held that power in her hands, the only question was how to use it.

White Dust was strange. For all that it seemed to embody the element of light, it was more than that—or rather, the Light was more than that. It wasn’t just a matter of photons and illumination; it held ties to the very soul, to the core of a person. The first time she’d used it, she’d broken through limits that should have been untouchable, bisecting her opponent with a portal. The second time, she’d created a portal that drew in everything around it and another that emitted it as raw power. Two completely different uses, with the only connecting point being her.

This time, she used it differently once more. As the world came back to her, she ignored the light, though it now seemed to draw her towards it. She ignored the ignored she could sense within it as well, though she considered leveling this power towards him. Instead, she focused her light on the swirling darkness she could feel at the edge of her senses—and cut.

The still black pit that had hovered over the battlefield tried to resist that power, but it couldn’t, nor could its master. It came apart at the seams and released its prisoner—and the light assailing Malkuth gained a mind of its own.