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There is no sense in waiting for the end to come and yet there is wisdom in seeing what the enemy does first. A paradox in a sense, one that catches Elektra in her own thought. For her territory is made of fire and brimstone at this moment, a mistake made in operation and yet completely unintentional. Decisions, decisions, decisions. Ones that do not come easily but are not hard to follow through with. She could go out herself, lead from the front lines at this moment amongst the chaos. She could withdraw completely, giving up her current control on that territory. She could tell those already there to abandon their current, failed her mind whispers, stealth in this operation. She could, she could, she could, she could not choose, not from the tree million possibilities running through her head. Not without more information, but with each second that passes opportunities fall out the window and she will live to regret those that she could not take.As much as she does not wish to admit that despite her precautions, in spite of them perhaps, that the fall of those that battle against those in the light of this society have impacted that which she has tried to protect. That no matter what she tries, the world continues around her and she cannot control everything within her sight. Powerful her sight may be, but not that powerful. The weight of the blood of her family, those she directs, those she has sworn to protect, those she will fail in this future to come already weigh on her. To protect them, she must grow. To grow, to become stronger, she must trade away what makes her weaker. Yet, she has nothing to trade. Nothing that she wants to give up, not yet. There is another option, to greedily consume that which is not hers to claim.
This is naught but the opening salvo, [Earthshaper], listen to your foundations you have so carefully built up shake and shatter.
The world shakes, and with it her resolve. She knows her strength, and with it, that she cannot let what is hers to claim, to contol, to command, fall like the rest of them. Once again, Elektra curses those who reside in the light and their willful ignorance. That they were born into a life where they must weigh the consequences day in and day out. Reason states that it is the price for her power, that she at least is not lead by the whims of another they cannot see. She herself is lead by them as much as she leads them, for no one is truly unchained from those around them. The world seems to resettle a bit around her, like she has accepted the truth she had been blind to. No matter, the whims and wishes of those she will never meet only affect what she cannot control, what she cannot see. Her sight is limited to her surroundings, and her control of them naught but a thin veneer held by the fear of her opponents that she could reach down into the crusts and lift them up if she so desired to. Comfy is this peace, and this peace has only held to stagnation. This chaos, this corner that everyone seems to have been backed into holds nothing good in it's depths. Nothing good, but it was inevitable, wasn't it, that our peace was so fragile that one ignorant person can break it.
Stand tall, child, and claim what could/should/will/has been/will be yours. Dive into this so called chaos and be reborn.
Elektra knows that her situation is no true chaos. That the fabrics do not seem to be crumbling at the seams quite just yet. That those buried and retired have not come out of their graves to fight the living and alive. This is no true chaos, but it could be and that frightens her. Tales of the past fill her nightmares, riots and tyrants and those who claimed to be more than simply human. Hopefully, none of that will come to bear. Hopefully, the dark can remain as it is. She holds no claims to the light, and they should hold none to her, with the exception of maybe her head. It's fair, many wish for others to fall but then again they do not know what they seek. Not many do, no one really does. To claim otherwise is a lie. One they tell the world and one they tell themselves. Elektra has hope, but no wishes for those are made by the foolish, of what has not yet to come. Despite her hope, Elektra knows otherwise. This future is a tight and narrow tightrope that she cannot break in her arrogance and rage.
Don't lose your rage/your emotions/your humanity [Earthshaper]. It is what makes you strong.
Shut up, she tells herself, that she is her own enemy at the worst of times, sometimes. You need to focus on the situation in front of you, there's still opportunities to be had before more precious time is wasted. Elektra walks off, presumably to decide what happens next, accepting what will happen next.
In a way, [Earthshaper] is correct, we are our own worst enemies and the world can be better or worse for it. What she forgets is that what she does is pointless. This operation was doomed to fail from the beginning, it the catalyst to bring the region to it's knees. That, just next door- or was it across the street?- was Yagi Toshinori relaxing after a long day, though you might know him better as All Might. That it had its own impacts in the form of the activation of Katou Hisashi's quirk, a manipulation and creation of fire based around the mouth that morphed into the destruction of fire as well. Though, these are stories, tales for another time and place. One that is not here.
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A couple units here, a few moves there. String along the heroes here, push them back there. Maneuver them through these battles, fights made to increase control. Manipulate people like pieces on a chess board, forget that you care for them, that they matter as much as you. To gain what you need you must loose what you want sometimes, have you done that just yet? Her mind whispers at her, telling her to take the jump, to stop trying to keep what you can loose. You naive child, her surroundings seem to shout, go and fight, go and become what you desire, go and struggle in the thick of things and gather the blood on your hands that you have so desperately kept clean. Her mind whispers of possibilities, of things that will never become although they could easily. Elektra is chained to her own thoughts, whispers in the dark that threaten to drive her mad. So what if she is? Naivety keeps things simple. It keeps those desires buried within her chest silent, that burning desire to reach out and crack open the world. More, more, more! They call, but she will not listen. If she truly desires control, then how will she keep it if she cannot keep herself under control first?
Ah, but should Naivety not be a luxury to the young just as Mercy is to the strong?
She wishes that she had better control. She wishes that she truly could treat those under her command as naught more than chess pieces. Then, maybe she would not be going out to do this. Unfortunately, not many things come as she wants them to. Unfortunate, then, this series of events has already come to pass. Unfortunate, then that this is how those who reside in the light will meet her. Unfortunate that she could not just tell them to leave her alone. Unfortunate, but that is the reality of things and Reality has no Fortune. Upon arrival, away from the original scene of the operation, cries of Boss! Elektra! What are you doing here? resound around her, and she tells them to leave. It is her turn to fight, to let them see who has stepped out to stop them in their tracks. Leave, she yells, I will take care of this, yes! A part of her withers, and she knows that what is to come is a part of what she has been running from. She cannot run from the light forever, no one can. Before her, heroes battle her people as they retreat. Pity that none of them are truly strong, pity that the man that has been causing her trouble is not here either. Less of a hassle to deal with this rabble, but it would have been nice to deal with that man. She steps forth onto the field as her men leave behind her. A few stay behind to make sure she can get back without any major chase or hurry. She is grateful for them, but tells them to stay out of the way unless they want to battle as well.
Clad in green and jewels, you step onto the battlefield. You will leave with dirt, rust, and blood on your hands.
They rush to meet her before being struck down by the dirt. She looks to the side and warps the buildings surrounding them into her sentinels. Looking down and she gains her perch. She feels the ground rumble. She knows it is by her own design, her sight. Nothing much but enough to topple a few. She hears the clash and clang, the resounding sounds of heroes trying to take her down. Look up, she whispers. It is not heard but it does not need to be when the sentinels she crafts soar upwards, carrying her with them. She knows that once she looks away they will plummet towards the earth as comets do. Look at me, look and see, look towards what I can cause. Elektra leans back and closes her eyes.She feels the wind before she hears the screams. She opens her eyes once more but does not grab control of the masses of rust that plummet towards the dirt. She simply pauses in her decent to watch the fallout. Most of those gathered appear to be fine, with the exception of exertion and dust, but then again they still rush towards those who are not. Good, but that portion is still only most. She tells them that she is leaving and unless they want this to continue they should tend to those who are injured and let her be on her way. Despite her ultimatum, they still rush at her, screaming. Elektra sighs, nothing good will come if you continue with this, she says. Do they listen? Of course they don't. Elektra looks down and the earth splits, entombing those running at her in the depths of the earth. While it might not be that far down in the crust, the weight of concrete and the immobility of their limbs prevent their escape. Her next act might be a bit too ruthless, that leaving now would still send the same message, just with more survivors. Then again, with what comes next, maybe this is the best course of action. Who knows? With a rueful smile, Elektra whispers her statement across the battlefield. That does not mean it is not carried, nor that anyone there does not hear it. "All that I regret at this moment is that you did not take the option I had given you, persisting with this fight. I hope your comrades consider a more... peaceful option next time. Thus, I bid you all farewell." Elektra grabs the buildings she turned into comets tight with her mind. The metallic structures fly upwards, moving in sync with her sight, making it easier to warp and split their shapes once they were in the air. Elektra grabs tight to the iron shards made by her own mind, sending them downwards onto those still standing there, a hail of twisted swords sent onto those awaiting. She sees their blood splatter, sees their terror, sees the spears pierce their bodies and watches them die. Once again, she grabs the parts that had not impacted those currently living, shooting them upwards once more. She feels their terror grow, pinned by arrows as they are. She reforms these pieces into one singular spire and then sends it back down., not with the force of a spear nor the force of gravity, but just enough force to pierce the ground. One it is settled, the spire stands tall, a monument in it's own way to those who had fought and died here.
Make your mark upon the world, upon history and pay the price for it, one in blood and sacrifice. For that is what people remember, isn't it?
Elektra walks away then, escorted by her own people that had stayed. She had not moved from the start of the fight to the end, with the exception of her eyes, and yet... Even though most of it had occurred far from her place, dust still found it's way into the folds of her garments, and she still felt the blood on her hands. This was far from done, wasn't it? Elektra asks, at the end of this, will I feel that there is a part of me that is not completely covered in blood? Not soaked to the core from the deaths I have and will cause?Her companion replies, with a grim look. At the end of it all, when we are judged, the fact that we feel the blood and weight of what we have caused mean that what we have done will not be meaningless. It is once you stop feeling the weight of those you have killed that their deaths become naught but a fact, and once you start with that, who you once were has finally died. Do not forget this weight and do not wish to become used to it nor wish to not feel it. This weight is what gives you mortality, and that, Elektra is what keeps people grounded. She replies with thanks, and goes silent. For there is much to think about, very much indeed. Plans to make, people to send, and threats to watch for. Her mind goes over the possibilities and options and the probabilities of success for her own. Looking and accessing the fallout of what she had chosen to cause. In the morning, maybe she will wake up and the world will ignore what she has just done. That is a fool's hope, and she knows that the people will call for her head in the morning. That she knows, but will those who lurk in the dark call for her head as well for starting this fight? Unlikely, as it was contained within her own territory, but all the same, she will be seen as a threat for her actions instead of the headstrong planner she was. More to fight, more to die, her grandmother would have said. Elektra is not her grandmother, not in mind nor body, and definitely not strength just yet. She is close, and knows that she will have to be stronger for what is projected to come. It might not be certainty, but it is better to have precaution than to be unprepared. This is just the beginning, and the beginning is usually the easiest to get through, as it is when no one gets desperate. When confidence and arrogance take the field and rule in their bolstering. Will she be one of them, protected by their lies of strength and numbers or will she be the one to call them on it and rise above?
Thus, the Opening Salvo starts and the world watches its' tempo.