As One With Body and Soul

Dorothy shoved away the raiders as she rushed downstairs to the main hall of the Chevolaire’s headquarters, her mask wholly cracked and surging with static. She froze again when she surveyed the full chaos brewing in front of her.

The main base of operations had it worse than the residential floor. Flames licked the corners of the tavern, and dozens of fights broke out wherever she looked. A clash of metal against metal, deafening explosions, and wild shouts flooded the floor, leaving Dorothy stiff in her spot.

A pinch of her arm confirmed it. This nightmare was all a reality.

Watching all this violence and disorder did nothing but further remind her of her crimes.

Someone threw a wooden chair at her, but it crashed into pieces, the lady in question standing still and utterly unfazed as she fought for her sanity.

A hooded man swung his ax through the air and hit the chandelier above. It violently shook, and with a creak and a tilt, the decor fell directly on her. Except, Dorothy remained on her feet as the chandelier practically toppled over her head and fell beside her with a crash instead.

Admittingly, her head somewhat hurt, but she couldn’t tell if it was actually from the chandelier or her throbbing headache. She stared down at her fragmented reflection from the golden rings of the decoration, only to see a child version of herself stained with blood standing behind her.

What should she do? Everywhere she looked—all this blood and fighting—it was as if she was reliving it all over again. Was this her punishment for forgetting her transgressions? Would she die in the same manner as her victims?

Her heart hurt far more than her head at this point. Her thoughts grew numb as a fog clouded her mind, and a small fire sparked inside her, ready to combust at any moment.

Perhaps… perhaps she truly didn’t deserve to live after all—

“...Help.”

Dorothy snapped out of her daze and darted her eyes around.

“Help… me…”

A weak croak came from under the pile of rubble just beside her. Dorothy held her breath once she spotted a hand twitching underneath.

A hand. Twitching. Moving around. Alive… Wait, someone was buried alive under that rubble?!

An inaudible voice whispered something to her, and without realizing it, Dorothy hurriedly rushed over and kneeled before the hand. She shoved away the heavy piles of bricks and wood and pulled a woman back up on her feet.

“Oh my god,” she croaked, falling to her knees. “I thought I was done for! Thank you so much!”

“Oh, erm, you’re welcome…” Dorothy looked down at her bleeding legs. “But, you’re hurt…”

“Sister!” another woman cried out, rushing toward them. “There you are! Are you alright?!”

“Yes, this girl saved my life,” she said, pointing at the masked lady.

“Oh, thank you for saving my sister!” she said, shaking her hand. “You’re… that girl from last night. Dorothy, was it?”

Dorothy shyly nodded. “You two should go,” she murmured.

“Will do. Thanks again.” The woman raised her sister’s arm over her shoulder, and the two disappeared into the shadows.

Dorothy meekly waved farewell at the empty spot.

That whole brief encounter didn’t feel real at all. Did she just save a life while contemplating hers? Why did she do it? Anyone could’ve done the same…

And yet, the unwavering fight scenes around her said otherwise. Everyone fought, fled, or hid in the shadows for dear life.

Somewhere close by, a circle of hooded individuals rounded up a few people at the center. Someone above threw a streak of Crimoire at the chandelier above them, causing it to crack and swing.

The familiar voice whispered something again but louder, and without thinking again, Dorothy lunged for the chandelier before it landed on the people. She kicked it away, crashing it into the wall. The people involved gaped as she landed gracefully, her dress and long, brown hair flowing around her.

The raiders charged at her with bulky swords, but with a swing of her leg, she kicked off their weapons and sent them flying.

“Woah, that was incredible!” said the man behind her. “Thanks for the help!”

“Y-You’re welcome,” Dorothy shyly murmured.

“You’re hella strong, lass! You’re that lady who smashed the stage into blithereens last night, yeah? Haha, I think we’ll be needing that strength!”

“Huh? My strength? What do you mean?” She shook her head and stepped back. “I-I can’t. I’m too dangerous…”

“The hell you’re talking about? You just saved our arses! You’re a nice lass, ain’t ya?”

Something clicked inside her, and the murky fog clouding her thoughts grew a little clearer. The familiar whisper earlier ago took this chance to repeat itself:

“Whatever you do, don't hate yourself. Don't hate that strength you have. You're a kind girl, Dorothy. I'm sure that one day, your strength can help someone. Maybe you can even save a life.”

Her mask further cracked. A brief wave of warmth swept through her, and a strange, floaty emotion slowly began to overwrite her bitter mood.

Right, what was she thinking, crying to herself when this whole place was turning inside out?! She needed to help them first!

Inhaling back her composure, she ignored her child self standing beside her and turned to the group. “Thank me later,” she said. “If you can still move, go and get to safety!”

“As if we’re gonna run away!” said another man, brandishing his battleax. “We’re gonna help out the others too!” With that said, the group shouted a mighty battle cry and jumped into another battle.

Nearby, someone hid underneath a table right beside a crumbling pillar. The structure continued to crumble as it collected more and more Crimoire projectiles. The moment it showed signs of toppling over, Dorothy sprinted at it, swung her leg, and smashed the pillar into pieces.

She ducked under the table and extended a hand. “You’re not safe here,” she said. “Follow me!”

The young man hesitantly accepted her hand, and she dragged him along as the two raced across the main hall. She deflected all the soaring blades, dodged the Crimoire streaks, and shattered all the bulky obstacles flying in her direction. All the while, the young man watched her in awe. The moment the two reached the emergency exit, she let go, instructed him to leave, and returned to the scene of the chaos.

While Dorothy looked around, her eyes caught a lady cornered by three hooded figures, her face torn with despair—a familiar expression she knew all too well. She picked up a piece of the broken pillar, and with a grunt, she hurled the piece and made a thundering shockwave, shattering the swords pointing at her. Now given the opportunity, the lady struck back at them and made a run for it, thanking the masked lady along the way.

Everyone in the range of the shockwave whipped toward Dorothy in a mix of shock and awe. Some raiders began to charge at her from all sides, brandishing all sorts of weapons and abilities.

Dorothy clenched her fists and faced all of them head-on. She smashed their blades, leaned away from Crimoire projectiles, knocked out a few who got too close, and exchanged rapid fistfights with the burly figures. She snatched one rather large raider, and with a spin, she knocked over the nearby raiders and threw them away, crashing them into another group of aggressors.

The Chevolaires who got saved by her paused and stared in admiration. Many of them began to recognize the lady who inherently demolished the stage last night and began to cheer.

Too focused on fighting off the raiders and saving more people, Dorothy didn’t notice their rising voices until she paused and took a breather. The more lives she saved, the lighter her heart fluttered. This strength of hers was the same devastating power that destroyed the peace of her former home and claimed dozens of lives, but now…

“Thank you! You saved my life!”

“How the bloody hell can you lift that?! You're amazing!”

“What incredible strength! Men, take notes from her!”

“Check out those moves! Is she an acrobat?”

“Who’s that lady?”

“She’s Dorothy! The powerful lady from last night!”

The cheers didn't stop—the cheers rooting for the strength she feared so much. Her mask continued to crack, and as the static grew weaker, her heart’s comforting warmth came back.

Before she knew it, as she subconsciously piled up the raiders on the same stage she broke, she knocked out the last one and tossed him into the pile, standing with pride above them all as she gazed over the cheering crowd.

At the same time, the guests and Chevolaires dealing with the raiders on the residential floor and from the floor underneath finally rushed out of the staircases just in time to witness Dorothy standing on the giant pile of raiders. Rouge Roulette discreetly waved her wand, and all the spotlights switched on and shined down on the lady of dawn.

Dorothy spent a brief moment catching her breath, and as she looked over the people she saved—the people who cheered and applauded for her—her mask made a loud crack. She met her brother’s gaze, and the two shared a moment to stare at each other.

“Your strength is truly a blessing, and I'm glad Ren brought you here.”

The champion raised a victorious fist in the air, and the crowd—including Rouge Roulette—erupted into another roaring round of applause, raising their fists and chanting her name.

Clover, on the other hand, couldn't help but gawk in silent bewilderment as her mask finally shattered and scattered around her feet, revealing her flushed cheeks, gleaming golden eyes, and the proudest smile he’d seen in years.