surtr-draft-2023-09-24

	A corpse named Surtr wakes up to a world in ashes.
	Pale, sooty-grey ash covered the world, snowing down from above, covering the barren badlands all around in cold, dead numbness, only interrupted by the occasional, distant rocky spire jutting from the earth. No flames, no cinders, no smoulders- so unlike the worlds this corpse knew.
	It contemplates, again, the girl cradled in its arm. It tilts its head, lowering the girl onto one of its knees, cupping her cheek before snaking its hand down to support her upper body. White hair- pure white, like fresh snow, contrasts against the ebony horns standing proudly on her head. A lissome dress covers her body- a smouldering black, with layers of white peeling out beneath, like a book's pages set aflame. Attire befitting her being, now and to be, chosen by Surtr itself. An unsightly, jagged-black hilt rests atop the girl's chest, its broken blade nestled inside her body, slanted just shy of her heart.

	"Is this the world you see?" It whispers, its free hand clasping over the hilt as its face hovers over hers, its red locks clashing against the white of her hair. "Such a beautiful, broken world. May it remain so."

	It unsheathes the blade from her heart. Her eyes fly open, and her hand rises to catch its wrist, before it might leave her empty-handed. The corpse wrenches itself away from the girl, slipping away the hand that once held her to now push her away. The girl skids to her feet in time, rearing back and landing a punch on the corpse's face, sending it flying.

	Surtr skids along the ground, as it rights itself onto its feet, kicking up a cloud of ash in its wake, obscuring even the edges of the girl's vision. Surtr calmly, languidly walks forward, the ashes settling, revealing the edges of the world behind it crumbling away- a world of smouldering cinders exposed beneath the girl's world, of towers of books, spires of papers and photos and loose documents consumed by tongues of flame, not a lick to spare.

	"Give it back!" The girl screeches, running at the corpse in a full sprint. "Gimme back that sword!"
	"What need have you this sword?" The corpse stops its advance, staring as the girl punches it in the shoulder, a visible shockwave emanating through the air, but not a single inch budged by the corpse itself. It stares down at the girl, who fruitlessly keeps swinging her arms at it.