Finger of God

[Ashla]

The darkness of the cave was alit by the magma humanoid. His churned, amber eyes were intent and focused. It was obvious that both opponents wanted to end this fight... who could walk out the victor?

He made quick work of ice crystals beneath them. Cold steam smoldered under red hot talons. In all his might and power, he raised one of his glowing arms. The heat of his boiling being became more intense as he stepped closer. Ashla took a single step back as he came forth.

The Icebreaker's disadvantages were in numbers. Her previous burns, plus broken or otherwise useless weapons, put her in a weak spot. Ashla was used to inferiority, but Ayleth loathed this.

Ayleth simply loathed this.

Sweat trickled down the confused girl's back. In the darkness, this person of two identities prepared for the blow. When he was close enough, she blindly threw what was left of her now melted red ice. While it was unlikely that they hit, the girl was more concerned about the claw. Eyes still flooded with tears, she tried to step back from his strike.

She had minimum luck, thanks to her lack of solid vision. There was that alarming feeling of raw magma ripping through sizzling chainmail. This, and the scorching of her stomach, well, hurt. A shout of pain was emitted as his powerful force threw her back several paces. The chainmail still burned, even the cloth shirt beneath it started to melt. The burning steel was excruciating. The odd feeling undershirt, uncomfortable. Even her ice-based healing factor struggled to coat her burns and three cuts without melting again.

The woman's face was churned with pain. At first she moaned. Gripping her broken sword to ease her agony, her mind swirled.

Clocktower!
Revenant!
Sword!
Burn!
Mocking!
Laughter!
Weakling!
Joke!
Burn!
Clocktower!
Weakling!
Mocking!
Joke!
Joke!
Weakling!
Joke!
Joke!
Joke!
Wea-jo-clocktower!
Tow-e-r-cl-o'€/
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Laughter!
Laug%_�<Ω
JθK3
JθK3
JθKE
JOKE!

Another scream, bizarrely not caused by physical pain, erupted. Unaware of her surroundings, unaware of even the air she breathed. She was driven to madness. As the scream was emitted again, she grasped and yanked her own hair. Midscream, her anguish was twisted so horrifically so. Disturbed, it churned into an unstable, insane laugh.

"I-i-it's a jo-j-j-joke, see?" On the ground, the mixture of lava burns and ice healing coating her, she was so caught up in her own laughter. "I-i-i - fool! Al-llllll-wa-ys lo-ose! Funny! Funny, s-see?"

Her sword still held tightly, as it was her only connection to real life left. She messily stumbled to her feet. She was still suffering, still laughing.

InSaNiTy.

"Laugh!" She shouted in an odd, indistinct tone, "Laugh with me!"

The glowing orb in front of her tear filled eyes was all she could see. Even if the floor below were to crumble, all she saw was him. As the floor below rose in temperature, the fire they left behind growing closer, she made her next move. Gripping what was left of her blade in the military grip, she twisted the hilt. Pulling it, she revealed the spiked bar.

"I'm literally half swording!" She bellowed, raising her weapon in a poorly performed wrath guard, "Get the punch line?"

Dear Thayne, she was crazy...

No way was she ever going to win in this state of consciousness. She was doomed to fall. Yet here she was, bolting forth with her lost mind.

Any sane person could tell this would do nothing to him.