Such is life, such it is.
After being transported into the stratosphere without a shred of prior permission, I currently found myself standing on solid ground that was completely saturated with the most brutal, sadistic murderous intent of the century.
I hadn't even secured a window of time to shriek with the elegance of a textbook heroine (granted, a fictional heroine; Lady Genevieve is the rightful heroine of this universe, I am fully aware of that, so please do not remind me of that factual narrative).
And inside that dizzying world spinning at high velocity—
SLAM.
An aura.
And fundamentally not just any ordinary aura, began to elegantly ripple across my surroundings.
Indeed...
An aura of unmitigated slaughter.
An aura that, if cross-referenced with food, was no longer sitting at a bird's eye chili spice level—it had officially skyrocketed to the level of "greeting your ancestors immediately upon the first lick."
