The upper torso of Aura Nova's body drifted slowly across the outer layer of the galaxy, or rather, what could generously be called her upper torso. Only the portion from her chest to her head remained intact; everything below had been completely erased by Kingsley's attack.
That she still lived at all was a testament to the absurd vitality and essence resilience possessed by beings of their level. Unless the head or heart was destroyed, or one was killed through some other absolute means, they could always regenerate, no matter how catastrophic the damage.
Even so, Aura Nova struggled to comprehend what was happening.
The longer the battle dragged on, the more confused she became. She had lived her entire life steeped in power, surrounded by it, defined by it. Power had always answered her call. Yet now, she found herself contending with someone who was not merely her equal, but who seemed to transcend the very rules she had mastered.
