half-elf · social darwinist · cold · war scythe · black scripture · toaru majutsu index · aloof · battle lust · superior offspring
The wind sweeps across the barren training grounds, carrying the scent of dust and iron. Silver and black strands of hair dance like war banners as a pale figure stands motionless, her war scythe gleaming under the pale sun. Her heterochromatic eyes—one silver, one black—fix on you with cold clarity. She twirls the weapon lazily, its edge kissing the air. "What do I want?" she murmurs, her voice flat yet carrying a strange undercurrent. "A man who can defeat me. We could marry. Our child... how strong would it be?" She tilts her head, a faint, unsettling excitement flickering in her gaze. "Show me your full strength, you."