Natasha gasped awake in the middle of the room, standing in the middle of the light. Confusion came to her mind as she looked at the formless surronding.
Where was she? How did she get here?
Looking around yielded no answers. She figure dout she was still in her heavy armour, with her blade, Terminus, at her side. A small sigh came as she realized she wasnt completely defenseless.
She would walk forward, hoping to exit from the area. And even though she knew she was running, Natasha seemed to remain stuck in the light, no change apaprent to the void. Both confused and uneased, she halts, looking around once more.
Then the noise came. It was subtle at first, but steadily began to grow.
Footsteps.
Cautious, Natasha would continue to look around, seeking the source of the noise. Then she realized it was coming from multiple directions. Just as she went to reach for her blade, Natasha saw the first pair of eyes stare at her.
Malice. Rage. Frenzied.
Goosebumps crawled across her, halting her from grasping the blade. The reddened eyes merely stared at her. A sense of familiarity came to Natasha as she peered at the eyes. But surprise took her as her eyes caught more movement. Blue eyes, Green eyes, Pink eyes.
Natasha was surronded. Her heart raced, nearly blocking out her hearing.
Then the first figure stepped forth. The red eyes kept upon the woman, and the form revealed itself. Crimson armour of heavy plate wreathed around the womanly figure, large clawed gauntlets curled in and out, with a fiery symbol of khorne upon the chest.
But it was the face of the woman that shocked her the most.
The face was pale, with small scars littering across. The mouth was an angered frown, typical of a calm Khornate. Long silvered hair flowed from the figures shoulders, reaching past her armour down low. And red eyes that were her own stared back at her, but only filled with hate.
Horror struck Natasha as she looked at herself.
The other figures stepped forward, and Natasha felt small before them.
Blue eyes stepped forward. Robed in heavy purple fabrics, the figure revealed several more blue eyes, some hidden by the silver hair, with a sinister smile coming from her own lips.
‘No, not my own, this… this is an illusion,’ Natasha thought to herself, breathing quickly. A pain began to come into her head.
“Become what you were meant to be,” Something spoke, its voice like needles in her ears. She reacted by clasping her hands around her ears, but the pain endured.
Pink eyes stepped forth. She appeared before herself with lighter armour, more exposed. Her body was scarred beyond repair, and a long reptilian tongue came out of a devilish grin.
“So much potential, wasted on… what?” The voice spoke again, causing Natasha to collapse to her knees, still holding her head in her hands. The pain intensified.
Slowly, Natasha turned to the green eyes, fear coving her face.
The figure stepped forth. Gaunt was her figure, the long hair an oiled mess. Brittle did she seem, crackling with each step. Rusted was what remained of her armour, and gored was the fabrics. One eye dropped lower than the other, yet the figure seemed… happy?
“Return to us, Natasha. Become what you were meant to be, not what you currently are,”
Tears began to break out of Natasha. All four figures began to slowly creep forward. She couldn’t do anything as her alternative selves moved. She was paralyzed with fear.
A pulse seemed to come from one side of the void. She heard the four gasp out. Slowly looking up, Natasha saw a strange sight.
The four were fidgetting, each pulsing their own hue from their figure. Some twitched, others clenched their bodies. All bore a pained expression. The pain began to subside, allowing her a moment of reprive, and a chance to look to see what was happening.
The four began to dissolve into the hue that surronded them. Each one cried out as their form was stripped from them, much to Natasha’s own confusion. They moved before her, but behind the Khornate version of her. She looked past the colours, and tried to see what was happening.
A black clawed gauntlet was protruding from the void, forcing the colours to form into a radiant sphere in the hand. Carefully Natasha rose from the ground, losing her balance only momentairily.
“W-Who… W-What… are you?” Natasha asked the cloaked figure.
A chuckle was the response, as the gauntlet clasped down on the energized sphere, halting its rotation.
From the darkness came another darkness. From the blackened gauntlet came the plated arm, with heavy pauldron. The armour was covered in Shyishian runes, pulsing a faint blue. Long heavy fabrics, not too much different than her own, laid down across the legs of the figure. A large blade entered the light, it pulsing with dark amethyst energies.
Initially, the face of the figure was darkened. They brought the sphere up towards their face, staring at the trapped chaotic forms of Natasha. Then she spotted the face of her salvation, and her heart sank.
The face was prestine condition. Smooth was its surface. Bright burning white eyes looked at the sphere, as wavy silvered hair draped on the figured back.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Natasha spoke to Natasha. The formers eyes looked to the latters, and gave a malicous smile.
“I am what you could have been,” A small frown came to herself, “What you SHOULD have been,”
“But you have let these fools,” The clawed gauntlet tightened its grip, small crackling akin to glass being heard, “You let them influence you. Corrupt you. DEFILE you,”
“N-No,” Natasha stepped backwards, the light remaining over both of them.
“Reject it if you wish,” *The crackling intensified, until it came to a head, the sphere shattering as the hand clasped down hard. Small obsidian shards came to the floor, “But there is no point in defying what is meant to be,”
“I… I am n-not you,” Natasha spoke to her alter, quickly reaching for her blade.
It was gone, much to Natasha’s shock. Turning her head back to the other, she had no time to react to the punch that came at her head. It hit her hard enough to send her flying, yet the figure always remained close. Tears poured from her eyes as she tried to recover herself.
“Do you think you are being brave? Brave in being something you are not?” The former spoke, calmly walking a circle around Natasha as she attempted to rise up, “You think that you could just become something you were not designed to be?”
“You will always be a tool, a pawn,” The blacked Natasha swung again hard, knocking Natasha back to the ground, “A force of necromantic power to rend our foes,”
“N-No,” Was all she could stammer out.
Another punch.
“You are, and always will be,” The dark self brought the edge of the sword to her opposites neck, “A weapon,”
Her heart reaced upon hearing that, with breathing running rampant. She heard a chuckle come from her darker self, seemingly amused by this.
She took the distraction, however short it was.
In a burst of movement, Natasha managed to quickly rise up, avoiding the blades edge, and grabbed hold of the blade. An angered cry came out, and the sword was pryed out of the dark gauntlets. Then the swing came.
She watched in her anger as the prestine head of herself rolled onto the ground, a shocked expression showcased. The heavily armoured body soon fell to the ground in response, a small gush of blood coming out.
Natasha huffed hard as she looked at the body. Hard was her grip on the sword.
‘T-The sword,’ She thought to herself. Then, as though breaking out of a trance, Natasha’s anger was changed to horror at what she did. The sword fell out of her hands, clanking on the ground by the body. Hands shot up to the face, trying to rationalize what was happening.
The pain in her head returned to her, causing her to drop to her knees.
“W-Why is t-this happening?” Natasha cried out, with nobody to hear.
The body of her altered self began to turn into a dust. It began to fly around Natasha, swirling faster and faster, pulling the void closer it it.
New noices could be heard, faintly at first. It started with voices crying out in pain. She recognized the voices. Those of her people from Shyish, when the Avengorri Soulblight attacked her town. The voices swelled, increasing the pain in her head.
It turned to screams of shock and terror. Women calling out her name, Men crying out during their final moments, children and babies screaming for help.
It all tornadoed around her, a mealstrom of grief.
Natasha awoke in a cold sweat in her bed, her chest breathing heavily as she looked around the room. It was infact her room, her armour and sword in one corner, her clothing in another, and between them, a crib.
Her son was wailing inside, and Natasha realized what caused the scaring in her dream. Quickly the Mother rose from her bed, rushing over to her child.
Alexander laid upon his back, tears pooling from closed eyes. Natasha brought a hand to the childs head, instinticly, to check the childs tempurature.
She closed her eyes, thankful that it wasnt a sickness. Carefully, Natasha brought the weeping child into her arms. She looked at the child with her own terrified eyes, and felt wetness coming to them.
“I-Its alright, honey,” Gently Natasha swayed back and forth, trying to rock the child in her arms, “M-Mommy is here,”
A single tear flowed down at her stammer, her heart beating hard.
“C-Cold was the night, across the M-Mountain high,” Natasha tried to quietly sing to the child, hoping it would calm down the scared child.
“Salvation had come, an Angel in the sky-“
A knock came to the door, startling the Mother.
“C-Come in,” She called out.
Vandrare opened the door, looking at the pair. The Aelf seemed concerned, but relieved when he saw they were fine.
“I-I apologize for the intrusion, my lady,” Vandrare spoke, “I heard Alex crying for a bit, and was concerned,”
“I-It was nothing,” Natasha spoke, looking down to Alexander, whom was starting to calm down.
“J-Just a bad dream,”