The Ashen Fortress

[Miranda Frost]

The room Miranda chose for herself was cozy at best and devoid of any flavor, but it was good enough for her. Miranda didn't need much. Hell a bed was hardly needed. Who knows when Cinder will choose to attempt to take her life again? The thought of such a battle brought a smile to her lips. Sure Miranda now had the overwhelming advantage, but that girl had possibly more potential than she. Overwhelming power comes with overwhelming price. This one of the few irrefutable facts in this world. What goes up must always come down.

 The pale woman would sit upon her bed, its supports creaking as her weight threatened to bend them. She had yet to sleep even once since that day years ago. Sure she had been knocked out on more than one occasion, but that just wasn't the same. Here in this fortress she seemed away from the world and its problems. Her head turned, her cybernetic eye peering out the stone window out into the distance. Out there was the crumbled remains of Death Mountain. Primes wielded the power to alter the balance of the verse's power. Along with the enigma, Nealaphh and teams of other primes, Miranda helped defeat the tyrant dragon, Volvagia. They had removed an evil, but did that really help anything? Her eye would droop to a close, her tired muscles finally relaxing. The Gorons now roamed homeless and there remained a power vacuum here. It was only a matter of time....

 before something else would come to claim it all.

  Miranda's eyes would open to the sound of the roaring cheers of thousands. She was there upon her knees, her silver eyes looked around her, wide in shock. Her body felt numb. Something was wrong here, deathly wrong. She felt a familiar weight in her arms, her flesh and blood arms. Reluctantly her eyes fell to what she carried, or rather WHO she carried.  Carried in her battered, bruised, and bloody arms was her brother, November. He was unconscious. No... no... he was dead. Miranda knew this yet it seemed so unbelievable. How could someone so impossibly stronger than her be killed? Her hands curled around his head, pulling his fore head to hers. Tears ran hot from her eyes, roaring down like rivers down her dust covered face, but yet again something wasn't right.

 A small stream of a cool, crimson liquid trickled from her forehead and over her brow. No. She'd pull  his head back, her eyes looking through a clean hole. The frightened girl let his body drop, jumping to her feet. It was hard to remember. They were fighting and through the roaring crowd a gunshot could be discerned from it all. The fight was rigged in her favor. It wasn't right. This was supposed to be fair!  Feeling returned to her body, her muscles clenching as her shock sparked something entirely different. Whatever it was, it caught flame. This flame spread throughout her body looking for any outlet. This flame was something she could not control. This rage concentrated in her arms and legs. To the spectators, she appeared to be on fire, her fists and feet burning a bloody crimson.

 What did they know? To them this was all just a show. Men and women sent to die for everyone's enjoyment. They knew nothing better. This was the way they were taught to think, or else. Miranda however couldn't care to give a flying rat's ass at this moment. To her, they were all laughing. They were  laughing at her loss, her tears, her unrelenting rage. They deserved everything that was about to be given to them. She'd slaughter them all, every single one of those fools who got their sick kicks watching them kill each other. The pain and rage of every single one of them rested in her burning limbs.
 Before she could take a single step however, light radiated from her limbs, countless glowing  crosses taking form upon her and then... 

Gunshots.

Miranda's cybernetic eye would open, the red sun of the Ashen peering through her window. She remembered why she didn't sleep. Dreams like those haunted her. Sighing, the woman sat up, cracking the tense feelings that had built up in her neck. If she had to sleep, it wouldn't be here. The bed was hardly comfortable for her. She'd walk out into the empty corridors of the fortress, following the passages down to where her eye saw Kuzuru through the stone walls. It was a wonderful thing to have, to see everything thing within a given radius of her.  Normal men would have trouble comprehend such a thing, but for her it became all but natural. 

 Upon coming to his door she didn't bother knocking. After all he did say to come by? It would be his fault if he was not prepared. After her journey here could he not anticipate Miranda taking some time to rest? She found it unlikely. Gently her metal claw pushed open the wooden door, her heavy boots clacking against the smooth stone beneath her. 
 "I'm here  now Kuzuru. What exactly do you need?", she'd say, brushing her bed hair from her face.