Pride and Glory (Shinsou vs Storm)

[Shinsou Vaan Osiris]

The finery-clad Veritas seemed to have a natural talent for turning his misfortune into a window of opportunity, but he was even further aided by a lack of concentration from his counterpart. Shinsou spent a fatal three seconds longer than he should have done observing the stumbling circus act of the Brotherhood's current leader.

As those fleeting moments passed without him reacting, a brace of deadly, searing lightning bolts came screaming forth from the tip of the dagger out of nowhere, hitting the Telgradian's black shirted chest with as much force as the electromancer could muster and smashing his ribs into what felt like a million particles of bone. This was the real Veritas. He may have been a washed up, nicotine stained, borderline alcoholic to the doubters and detractors, but to Shinsou he represented the most dangerous type of opponent; the one who bore his fangs only exactly when he needed to, and one who knew his own limitations enough to know when that needed to be.

Cringing harshly from the blasts, Shinsou lurched violently to the left before crumbling to his knees. A tangy, metallic taste lingered around his teeth and gums and static snapped as his skin touched the cold marble of the floor. His fingers clawed up and writhed as they were immolated in raw, burning electrical power. His attention quickly turned through bleary, bloodshot eyes to the singed wound in the centre of his shirt. The noise of the hissing emanating from his smouldering tunic seemed almost imperceptibly louder than anything else around.

The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt; a searing heat ate at his flesh, the smell of melting skin tickled his nostrils and his heart almost exploded out of his chest such was the effort required for it to pump the required adrenaline around his body. But, instead of recoiling in horror as most mortals would have done, Shinsou was almost smiling to himself, albeit through gritted teeth.

"Fuck."

A breath of cool wind splashed against the Telgradian’s eyes as he assessed himself further, before getting slowly to his feet. Smoke still rose in wisps from the grievous wound on his torso as he puffed and panted through the agony.

"That's how...I remember you; that raw, arcane power. But, what happened? A year ago, that would have killed me outright. If this is a true measure of your abilities, how do you keep the Whitevale mutts in line?"

Shinsou wiped his forehead clean of sweat, and then stroked the back of his right hand against his lips to remove the last of the static taste. His attack had more or less finished this fight as a contest of agility; Shinsou was nowhere near capable of moving with any guile or panache bearing such a horrendous injury, and he knew it. Regardless, though, the Telgradian was capable of equal measures of brute force destruction, and now his friend would truly feel how far he had come in that field. It made him wonder, somewhere in the back of his mind, where the pair could have ended up if they had continued on their path to conquer Radasanth.

"Just think upon what we could have achieved together were it not for the divisions within. Perhaps one day we'll meet again and find out, eh?"

Behind Shinsou, a few feet above the crest of his oaken hair, mysterious arcane energies began to meld together in the void of the chamber. Forking tendrils of black and purple convulsed and converged around each other to form a fifteen foot wide circular portal of black and purple energy. The sheer corrosive force of the dark magic chewed into the rising marble columns either side of the Telgradian, leaving a whistling expanse of space where the chiselled embellishments used to be. Out of the black chasm that gaped behind him, protruding from the abyss of marbled purple and jet, were fifteen thin, dangerous spears of dark matter.

The spears momentarily hung there with an ethereal hum as they waited for an order, before a layer of ice crawled over the unusual void membrane comprising each projectile. Before long the entire void was seeping ice; its deadly salvo waiting to be unleashed on Storm Veritas at a range of fifteen feet.

Without even having to motion, Shinsou commanded all projectiles to attack at once. They shot out of the portal and wildly tore towards their intended recipient, forks of blue and purple electricity ripping into space around them and scorching the surface of the smooth stone floor as they travelled. Through the electric and ice comet like trail of his powerful volley, Shinsou gave the implacable electromancer an incredulous stare.