A faint, almost detached sense of amusement stirred within Sephira as a tight ring of men in black, all heavily armed and grim-faced, closed in around her.
The air between them didn't just feel tense; it crackled with a low, menacing energy, thick enough to taste.
She didn't possess a System—the ubiquitous digital interface granted to natives of this world upon the arrival of the Dungeons—because she was an Outsider, a being transposed from another reality.
Yet, even without a digital overlay, her intuition and honed senses immediately registered their abnormal strength.
They were far beyond the capabilities of the average, unawakened human.
"Based on the limited information Arthur provided, their strength signature should place them around Level 3 to 4," she mused internally, her cool, cerulean eyes assessing the crude formation.
"And I stand at Level 7, a significant tier above their combined force."
In this newly evolved world, the gap between each numerical Level was monumental, akin to the difference between a skirmisher armed with a simple dagger and a tactical commander controlling a heavy siege engine.
However, this established rule of power scaling was notably warped when it came to Arthur.
He was an anomaly, shielded and supported by the grace of two Dragon Gods, making conventional comparisons useless.
Stepping out from the deep shadows of the nearby industrial scaffolding, Sephira revealed herself with deliberate, almost insulting slowness.
Her silvery-white hair, falling like a cascade of moonlight, framed a face of severe beauty.
"Who are you people?" she asked, her voice calm but carrying an inherent, melodic authority that effortlessly cut through the strained silence.
"Why have you been lingering around us, trying to remain unseen?"
The sudden appearance of the strikingly beautiful woman—her otherworldly hair and commanding presence instantly marking her as someone extraordinary—sent a visible ripple of shock and fear through the assembled men.
They exchanged quick, panicked glances, the unspoken message clear: Abort the mission; she's too powerful.
But in a misguided flash of arrogance, or perhaps sheer, desperate terror, their training and desperation won out.
With a collective, foolish surge of resolve, they leveled their weapons at her.
Intriguingly, they hadn't opted for firearms.
Since the advent of the Dungeon Climbers and the infusion of magical energy into the world, conventional guns had become largely ineffective against reinforced bodies and active Skills.
Instead, they wielded cold weapons—swords, axes, and polearms imbued with a faint, pulsing blue energy.
"Heavy Thrust!" one shouted, charging forward with a heavy-bladed spear, his meager Level 3 Skill activating a visible blue aura around the tip.
"Horizon Slash!" a second yelled, bringing down a two-handed broadsword in a wide, sweeping arc designed to cover multiple angles.
"Falcon Shot!" a third bellowed, launching a projectile skill from a sophisticated, crossbow-like wrist device.
They attacked in a coordinated, yet utterly predictable, assault, utilizing the System Skills they had earned and perfected through arduous dungeon grinding.
Sephira, however, moved with an effortless grace that bordered on apathy.
She dodged their frantic maneuvers as if they were moving in slow motion, her body an engine of economical and flawless motion.
Their combined, desperate attack only served to open up their formation, giving her the perfect opening for a counter-offensive drawn from her own world's unique magic.
"Thundara," she whispered, the spell's name a quiet utterance from the world of Final Fantasy VII—her true home.
A blinding, jagged bolt of sapphire-blue magic erupted from her outstretched hand.
It was not a single arc, but a powerful chain of lightning that sought out and lashed against multiple targets simultaneously.
The men in black felt the intense surge of power instantly and tried to scatter, their trained reactions screaming at them to evade.
But Sephira was not merely strong; she was exponentially superior.
Half of the attacking group were caught instantly by the magical onslaught.
Their bodies, protected only by their insufficient dungeon-enhanced vitality, were instantly enveloped in crackling energy.
They were left as charred, smoking husks on the cracked pavement, a grim monument to their error. The acrid smell of ozone and burnt flesh filled the night air.
They were dead before their bodies even finished convulsing.
"Her level... it's higher than ours!" one of the remaining, terrified men shrieked, his voice cracking as he dropped his weapon in submission.
"F-fudge! I should have known!" another gasped, staggering backward.
"She's with that damn bastard!"
The "bastard" they were referring to was Arthur.
He was a celebrity among climbers, notorious as the first person to successfully breach the daunting Fourth Floor of the Dungeon Tower.
The sudden appearance of a woman with this power, immediately after Arthur's breakthrough, strongly suggested she had been brought over from that new, higher-level Fourth Floor—a costly, high-tier companion only someone with an immense reserve of Dungeon Points could afford.
"He has enough Dungeon Points to summon someone this ridiculously powerful!" the leader of the remaining men exclaimed, his voice laced with unadulterated horror and disbelief.
"We have to immediately relay this information! They need to know what he's capable of!"
Sephira had heard enough.
Moments before the confrontation, she had silently tasked Jarvis to run an analysis on their group's energy signature and affiliation.
The men belonged to a nefarious organization known as the Hellfire Club.
They had been dispatched to Arthur's residence initially on the orders of one of their regional executives: a polite, if firm, invitation for the rising star to join their ranks.
However, the presence of internal political dissent within the club had led to this secondary, more hostile order.
A splinter faction had sent these men to "mess things up"—a simple intimidation job that had tragically escalated.
They, the men of the Second Floor power-tier, had been utterly unprepared to face a being whose strength was equivalent to the Fourth Floor—a power disparity they were now paying for with their lives.
The profound silence that followed the magical blast was the cold, final confirmation of their monumental error.
Sephira's gaze was ice-cold as she considered her next move.
Should she deal with the problem for him?
"Hellfire Club… I think this world needs them. I don't like the name," she decided, her lips curling into a predatory smile.
Sephira decided to take the matter into her own hands, intending to send a clear message back to the shadowy organization.
Meanwhile, inside the relative safety of their temporary home, Aerith, Yuffie, and Tifa were deep in conversation with Pepper Potts about what they should be doing while staying in this new world.
Since their main objective—defeating Sephiroth and saving their world—was complete, they didn't feel obligated to return as they had no important duty there.
"So, what do the three of you want to do in this world?"
Pepper asked, genuinely curious as to what Arthur's soon-to-be companions and potential daughters-in-law wanted to pursue.
She already knew of their immense capabilities and had tasked Javis with finding suitable, non-combat positions for them.
"I want to open a flower shop!"
Aerith exclaimed immediately, her face alight with an infectious, gentle joy.
Of course, she wanted to cultivate the beautiful, strange new flora of this dimension.
"I want to run a diner,"
Tifa stated, her gaze distant as she reminisced.
"I have plenty of experience with it."
She missed her old bar and safe haven, Seventh Heaven.
Opening a similar establishment here would be a good, grounded idea.
"I want to open a dojo! To teach people the way of the ninja!"
Yuffie declared with energetic enthusiasm, already striking a dynamic pose.
Secretly, however, she wanted to go on a treasure hunt and become a vigilante.
She had heard whispers about a mysterious woman in a black costume stealing from evil rich people—a vocation that sounded incredibly appealing to the young ninja.
Pepper smiled warmly, noting everything and immediately telling Javis, via a subtle ear-piece, to begin the necessary preparation and bureaucratic work for all three ventures.
"New York is a bit too chaotic and high-risk for civilian ventures right now, given the rising Dungeon activity,"
Pepper advised gently.
"Let's open your businesses in Japan instead. It's stable, has a rich culture."
They agreed instantly.
They felt a strange sense of familiarity and peace when they learned about the country, feeling that Japan, with its blend of tradition and modernity, was surprisingly like a home they hadn't realized they were missing.
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