In the distance, amidst a field of ash and unfortunate demise, a storm raged.
It was a storm of pink incongruent with the rest of the environment, but there was no question about its origins as the Frontliner maiden stood composed before its wrath.
An opposing gargoyle―easily over a dozen feet tall and bearing a menacing mien, the likewise rock-carved halberd in its grasp secondary proof of its hostility―seemed to be finding itself as if thrown into the shredder, myriad pink petals slicing and slashing what should be durable stone skin, chipping away at its hard flesh to carve wounds all over its body in the most literal sense.
In a matter of seconds, the gargoyle was minced into miniscule fragments, eventually reaching a breaking point where it simply shattered into dust.
Immediately following the one-sided shredding, the storm of petals dissipated as if it never were, and before my eyes, a small flurry of transparent screens appeared.
[Objective Cleared]
