((Unquirk to see the full text OOCly! Thanks to Livemind for the regex!)) It’s sweltering in here, the final room that houses the final chain binding Bastet. The smell of hot metal (which has a smell, no matter what anyone tells you) is undercut by something else - an animalistic, feline musk, and blood. The chain rattles fill the room as Bastet moves, visible under the grate floors as a massive, hulking creature, dragging the remnants of the broken chains Nyrita’s already severed below. It looks up at Nyrita, massive blood red eyes glowing in the gloom. Nyrita does not look down, though, because her gaze is locked to the figure before her. She’s tall, standing over eight feet tall. Her clothes are immaculate, even in the heat, and there is no sweat that mars her …. What stops Nyrita cold, and sends a different kind of sweat down her spine, is the shape of her horns, the shade of her color of …, the symbol embroidered on her clothes. “Greetings, child,” says Marher Mastus, the …. “I did wonder how my descendant might fare, unable as I would have been to see her hatch.” Nyrita’s quiet for a moment, before she speaks. “I wouldn’t know. I’m not her.” The … scoffs. “Come now. You wear gray, you don’t wear our symbol, and you bleed gray, and you think that was enough to erase - “ “Shut up!” Nyrita’s yell echoes in the chamber, drowning out the sound of the chains - which stop, as even Bastet pauses in her pacing. “You don’t know anything about me! You don’t know anything you fucking … have put me through! I’m done! I’ve been done! It’s been six sweeps, and I’ve thrown it all away and been happier for it!” The echoes die down, and it’s silent, before The … speaks, her voice quiet. “And you know nothing of me, if you think I wanted you to suffer like you have.” Nyrita blinks. “What?” The … continues. “I suppose it makes sense that you don’t know who I am. I am not as … The … begins to pace the room, her oration growing impassioned, filling the space. … Nyrita blinks. “Okay. Sure. Fine. Whatever. I don’t care, though. Why are you here? Did Sophia pluck you from the afterlife, or something? Why am I listening to you, I’m going to sever the chain and be done with it.” Nyrita swings her chain at the one binding Bastet, the length telescoping - and snatched out of the air, by the …. “Because this is your legacy, Nyrita. The bonds that bind you, and support you. Even your denial of them does not mean you can escape them. You are controlled by … Nyrita snarls, and yanks the chain back. The … opens her hand and the chain returns. “So, what? You’re here to get me to be all zen? Let go of my past trauma?” “What better final test for a Prince of Blood than to finally erase their own blood, hm?” “Stay still, then.” Nyrita swings again, and the … catches it again, sighing. “You’re smarter than this, Nyrita. Anyone of my blood would have to be.” “Stop /saying/ that! Fine!” Nyrita thinks, grumpily. The … puts her hands behind her back, waiting patiently. …It’s funny she’s trying to sever the connection between herself and her ancestor with a chain, isn’t it. Not just metal, then. A swing powered by the severing of ties as a Prince of Blood can. Thwack! The … stumbles, but only a little. “More than that. It takes two ends to connect.” Still in Nyrita’s blood, then. Dammit. She ripped that color out of her soul! She threw it into the void. Fine. Fine! She flicks her claws out and they sparkle with rust-colored energy, before she slashes them across her face. Severance, the energy released by broken bonds, flowing into the weapon, and she strikes again. When the blow lands on her ancestor, she staggers, catches herself by leaning against the chain. “Half the definition, Nyrita! Half the answer. You know what it means to be a Prince. Do it!” Nyrita shakes her head, shaking the blood out of her eyes. To destroy. Or to destroy with. What will she use, then? What, in fact, will take the place of her bloodline, if it really, truly is severed? She grips the chain, and thinks. She thinks of Karama. Of Furann. Of every friend, and partner, and acquaintance, and person she happens to see that she’s spending time with instead. Of her true legacy, rather than what was given to her. Her chosen bonds, the ones she keeps instead of cutting off. She swings. The … falls. The chain binding Bastet shatters. Everything goes white.