The first thing Neila noticed was the smell, copper and salt and something chemical, like bleach left too long in an open container. She covered her delicate nose with her hand, her fingers pressing tight against her nostrils
[It must be that girl, no? Better hold my breath while I can, only breath when I need to, I can heal the minor damage later]
Dominic stood at the end of the hall, his back to her, his hands loose at his sides. His dark blue hair was matted with blood, his uniform torn, but his posture was relaxed, almost casual, as if he'd just finished a light workout.
Neila looked amused.
[I wonder why I'm even doing this, rather unlike me to help someone out for no reason. Well Dominic is still useful to me, he provides quite a lot since he's going to be the next head. They're going to get in my way sooner or later, better nip the bud]
"Dominic, well whoever you are." she said.
He turned.
His eyes were wrong. Not the warm crimson. Pale blue, the color of winter sky, the color of frozen water, the color of something that had never been alive.
"Neila." His voice was wrong too. Dominic's voice, but the cadence was off, the warmth drained out of it like color from old photographs. "There's no reason you should be getting in my way."
"You have no reason to ever tell me what to do, I don't even know who you are."
[Sophia's gone, I doubt my family will stay still and the Smiths are definitely going to cause more trouble than they are worth]
Neila's eyes narrowed. "Where's Sophia?"
"Who knows?" Dominic shrugged. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you, little girl."
"I've always hated your guts, for one thing, even if you're far stronger than me, I'm not listening to one thing you say, because I'm just far better than you."
"You are?" He took a step forward, and Neila felt something shift in the air between them. He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes shifting between a cool blue and a crimson red. "I didn't realize that someone with your measly abilities could surpass me."
Neila didn't flinch. Didn't move. Her eyes narrowed.
"I've always wanted to wipe that stupid smug grin off your face!"
She snapped her fingers.
The sound that erupted from her hand was not a blast. It was a scalpel. A focused, concentrated point of pressure aimed at his chest, his heart, his lungs. The kind of attack that would rupture organs without leaving a mark on the skin.
Dominic's hand came up, barely blocking the attack.
The sound wave blasted against him, rippling outward in concentric rings that cracked the floor beneath his feet and sent the remaining windows shattering into the night.
Neila was already moving.
[I should conserve my mana, but I can't seem to help myself! If I engage in close combat, I'll definitely lose]
Her second snap came from behind him, a sonic burst aimed at his spine.
Dominic's body twisted. His arm extended, his hand flat, and the sound wave broke against his palm, leaving a large patch of missing skin, drops of blood scattered.
"Your mana properties are different," Neila observed. "You're using your brute mana more than you're using your technique, his arm would've blown off had he tried that himself."
"You seem to be rather observant of people." Dominic's eyes gleamed.
"I pick up on things only if they're usually presented right in my face."
His hand ignited into flame.
"Huh?"
Dominic stared wide eyed, his skin charred and flaked from the crackling of the fire.
He turned his sights onto her.
"I didn't think you had the technique of a Smith's."
[Does he really think that? My inherent mana type is an intangible mana type, the Smiths have an elemental mana type. Or could it be that the reincarnation is perhaps too ignorant? But being in his body, doesn't he watch through his eyes?]
"I stole it."
"Phew."
Dominic blew away the flame, leaving a charred black mess of a hand. His bones cracked, his skin flaking off.
Black.
Snap.
It came from her other hand, a low hum that travelled through the floor, the walls, the very structure of the building. The corridor shook. The floorboards buckled. And Dominic, mid-lunge, lost his footing.
She dashed towards him.
[I'm running out]
Her first strike was a palm to his chest, a quick flash of raw mana that cracked his sternum and sent him stumbling backward.The came a kick to his knee, another burst that dislocated the joint and dropped him to the ground.
Her third was a snap directly against his ear, a sonic pulse that burst his eardrum and sent blood streaming down his neck.
He hit the floor hard. His head cracked against the wood, and for a moment, just a moment, his eyes flickered from blue to red and back again.
Neila stood over him, her chest heaving, her hands still raised, her fingers already curling for another snap.
"Dominic," she said. "I'm going to kill you if you don't come out."
His lips moved. No sound came out.
"At the very least, you should've given me half your properties."
His hand shot up.
One moment she was standing over him, the next she was flying backward, her ribs caved in, her lungs empty, her vision white with pain.
She hit the far wall hard enough to crack the plaster. Her spine screamed. Her arms went numb. She slid down the wall and landed in a heap at its base, blood already filling her mouth.
[This is bullshit, I shouldn't have done this, this isn't like myself, fuck!!]
Dominic stood.
His sternum was already healing, the bones knitting together with a sound like ice cracking. His knee popped back into place, his eardrum sealed, his eyes, those terrible pale blue eyes, fixed on her with an expression that was almost pity.
"One hit and you're already down," he said. "How pathetic of you."
He crossed the distance between them in a single stride. His hand closed around her throat. His grip was iron, his fingers cold against her skin, and she felt the blood in her neck pulse against his palm like a trapped thing trying to escape.
"You are rather clever," he said, his voice soft, almost gentle. "But your body is unnaturally weak, your build is small, your pool of mana is small, your output is mediocre at best. Had you been in another person's body, then you'd be a real threat."
He lifted her off the ground. Her feet dangled, her toes scraping against the floor, her hands clawing at his wrist, her nails drawing blood that healed as fast as she drew it.
"What happened to being a genius?"
His grip tightened. Her vision went gray at the edges.
"But you're not enough, Neila. You've never been enough. And you never will be."
She pointed her hand not towards him but towards the ceiling.
The sound that came out was not a blast. Not a scalpel. It was a scream. A raw, unfocused burst of pure sonic energy that erupted from her hand and exploded outward towards the lights above..