Neo League 176 - #187: Alma vs Frei

Description: Once again, these two man's men face off in mortal combat... on the sunny beaches of Belize! Yatta! Extreme fighting action culminates in two final powerful blows -- and a few strange insights into the mindsets of these two handsome fighters. So whether you're interested in insights or shirtless bishounen or, heaven help us, both, this fight is for you, League fans! (Winner: Alma)



Bananadouken!
Yeah. So Frei's last league fight was in Southtown. He threw an explosive banana at El Diablo Amarillo Ramon, and Ramon proceeded to drive Frei's head into the pavement so hard he woke up thinking he was Dame Edna. Considering he'd been on league vacation because he keeps getting these ridiculous beatings that require insane convalescence times, it wasn't exactly an auspicious start.
Flash forward to Wednesday afternoon, as Frei is lying in a deck chair on the sandy beaches at the Royal Orchid in Belize City, soaking up some sun and, not coincidentally, relaxing and catching up on his reading. Sure, he's reading "The Tao of Pooh" and he sort of relaxes professionally, so it's not exactly a vacation. But it is a nice change from the rigors of Southtown. Plus, there's no way the Masters Foundation would fly someone to freakin' BELIZE to fight him. Right? RIGHT?
Sadly, that's not the case. His cell phone rang this morning to let him know they'd found an opponent they could get down there, and would Frei mind another fight this week, as things appeared to be kind of slow. Shrugging, the monk ran with it. Why not? At least he'll already be somewhere to relax if the gets the living daylights beat out of him.
Thus here he is, sitting on a deck chair just off the hotel's veranda overlooking the dark blue waters of the Pacific, wearing denim cutoffs, a white midriff-baring tanktop, and amber-hued Lennon shades instead of his normal headband, the glasses almost lost in his tangle of vibrant red hair. He's getting attention from girls as he waits, sipping a pina colada!
Irony is a real bitch.

Ah, the fight. Immersing yourself in the flow of battle. The tension between two people, all their power pitted against each other, forging a bond that seems to transcend the fighters themselves, creating a sort of harmony within the chaos. A rhythm, if you will. Learning to read that rhythm -- to become one with and take advantage of that awesome energy that surges through the universe, that humans both move and are moved by -- isn't just the path to greatness in battle, it's a life skill. This Way, this broad perspective, this maturity, transcends all paths, and thus on some level, governs them all. This ultimate truth that perhaps those in battle touch upon... it touches open all other arts as well.
Like, for example, the art of surfing.
With the lightest of weight shifts, Alma rides the waves, the spray soaking his feathered blonde locks. His expression is calm and serious, but his eyes are shining.
Well, what? I mean, it's basically the same thing. Sort of. I mean, if you believe in that whole ultimate truth spiel. Which Alma does. Don't argue with it, he might fall over.
Oh... wait, he just did.
Well, "one must practice very hard" all the same, eh? Yet still, there might be something to acquiring a sort of over-arching 'general skill', because Alma somehow manages to make complete collapse look alright too. Maybe it's the good-humored expression on his face, the good-natured grin as he steps out of the surf with his surfboard on his shoulder like a squire with his sword leaving battle practice. Maybe it's the light in his eyes that he gets whenever he's passionate about /anything/, that light that, despite its intensity, never contradicts his serene and relaxed expression.
Or maybe it's that the big guy looks really, really good in red and white board shorts. Ohh, give me some of that Halfu loving, Alma baby...
Stepping out onto the sand, he looks straight ahead. He'd better towel off before he goes looking for Frei. Now where could that guy be? Ah well, Alma usually gets lucky with these things...

What he said!
If one were to have some sort of side-by-side comparison chart, it might be interesting to note the differences in philosophy between these two actually quite philosophically-oriented fighters. Alma tends to hurl himself into the current and then swim; Frei is constantly immersed in the current but not ever really going anywhere on his own. Alma might be more enlightened, one would suppose. But Frei spent 8 years studying in monasteries and temples across Asia and damned if he's not confident in his way of living. Be moved, and in so, move others. Flow as water. Be whatever the moment requires, and you control the moment. The same, yet different.
I'd make a surfing analogy here but there isn't one.
Instead, Frei simply sits on his chair, flipping idly through the book and sipping his drink through a straw, making nice loud sucking sounds as he finally drains the entire thing, like a four year old drinking a milkshake in a diner, determined to get the very last bits of ice cream out of the glass. That damn pina colada was almost $10 with exchange, so Frei feels he's entitled. The girls hovering around him think it's just adorable, which, considering Frei's boyish looks, isn't too shocking.
It's only happenstance that in his stumbling out of the surf and onto the sand, as Ariel arising from the sea, that he accidentally wanders right by Frei's perch, causing the monk to blink, then look up and wave his book at Alma to get his attention. "Hello." He beams a little too cheerily.
...the girls are unhappy for a moment, and then the possibilities strike them. The turning of gazes back and forth generates a tiny crossbreeze that blows Alma's hair about. It's tres chic.

Ah yes. How /does/ Alma always manage to get those awesome breezes that blow his hair just so whenever it's appropriate? Especially when his hair is dampened by sea spray and his coppery skin is glistening with moisture in the sunlight? How indeed can young Alma be as a male Venus, rising from the waters reborn fresh, the air around him seeming to sparkle? How does he /do/ this?
...uh...
...Psycho Power? >_>
Or maybe it's just that dastardly anime realism. Whatever the case, when Alma tilts his head in Frei's direction, he unleashes a good-natured smile that could make him worthy to be Kim's protege. "Frei!" He steps forward, casting that smile in a friendly but fleeting manner to the women around the monk before looking back to his friend. "How fortunate," he continues, low tones calm but cheerful. "I'm scheduled to be your opponent today."
He tilts his head. "I was going to go change, but since we're both here... would you like to just fight on the beach?"

There was this tiny, tiny spark of hope that Frei and Alma's meeting on the beach in Belize was perhaps some sort of divine act, a chance for them to talk without the neighing and braying of Southtown's schoolgirl junta noisily chipping away at the potential for sane, adult conversation bit by bit with its swirling vortex of incessant nattering. Maybe, just maybe, there was something destined about this meeting.
Way to kill it, Alma.
Frei does look a little crestfallen, but it doesn't last long; his simple features curl back into their typical smile easily enough. "Well, I wasn't... expecting it to be you. Huh. I guess the people have spoken and they want to see you beat the living hell out of me a second time." THe sentence is laden with "^_^". If Frei's bothered by his previous loss, it doesn't show. He sets his glass down on the chair as he gets up, stretching his arms above his head lazily, like a cat, before grinning at Alma. "I'm fine with right here. You sure you don't want to change, though? I'm not going to go easy on you just because you're shirtless."

Sorry, Frei. Alma's caught up in the flow of the moment still, and he's itching for the rhythm of battle; in fact, conveniently, that's /his/ excuse as well, as he turns away smiling. "Nah, surfing gets me in the zone for a fight. If you're ready, then I'm ready." And he walks a few paces away to where there is hard-packed sand, rolling his shoulders and shifting his weight experimentally.
Yes. Hard-packed sand. Hard-packed like Al--
...I really need to get a grip on myself here.
Alma turns and smiles winningly in Frei's direction again, watching him through the blonde red-tinged bangs that are plastered over and around his eyes. "Don't keep me waiting," murmurs the would-be bishounen cheerfully enough, as the girls continue to glance between the two of them curiously/mildly suspiciously.
"And please, do your best..."

COMBATSYS: Alma has started a fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Alma             0/-------/-------|


Frei grins. It would be difficult to call him more lascivious than Alma; in fact one could probably argue that the line between Alma and Benimaru is spelled 'Catholic upbringing', but that's neither here nor there. Still, the man's 26, despite his youthful looks. He's been around the block. I mean... he lived with monks. In the MOUNTAINS. Monks who train in the martial arts day in and day out in some cases. Often shirtless. Kinda like now but with less sand and more tundra.
"Nah," he says, getting into a loose tai chi stance, somewhat reminiscent of Chun-li's. He flexes his fingers, thinking about the situation. "I was thinking half-assed effort tops. Then I can shake my fist at you dramatically after my unbelievably quick loss, and you can promise to teach me the error of my ways." He Saishu-eyebrow-waggles, then throws his hands out to the sides, each gathering a sphere of blue-white chi. "Of course, I have a rich fantasy life, so. Hya!" Hurling both spheres forward, the monk kinda-sorta aims them at Alma... but that's not really the goal. In fact, they're intended to hit each other, then combine into a burst of hail shards to cool Alma's sun-parched skin. Even if he was just, uh, surfing.
Look, shut up.

COMBATSYS: Frei has joined the fight here.

[\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////////]
Frei             0/-------/-------|-------\-------\0             Alma


COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Alma with Hyoushou Rengeki.

[ \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////    ]
Frei             0/-------/------=|==-----\-------\0             Alma


"Eh?"
Error of your what? Alma blinks, lips parting slightly.
"Well, sure," he says in a friendly tone, "if you like, I could tell you all about my theories of battle and--" Aiyaa! Alma, pay attention! Another blink and a tightening of the mouth, and Alma attempts to lunge past the projectiles, but he senses the explosion too late and his rush is slowed by the force. But the shards themselves... well, they don't actually strike. See, even if he wasn't fast enough to actually avoid the attack, Alma is psyched up enough to have his fighting spirit in gear, and the chi attack ends up shattering against Alma's auric field. He's slowed normally, and the damage is dealt to him normally as his aura distributes the force through his body -- but he resists it impressively, for a non chi-wielder.
Impressively enough, at least, to come out swinging despite his slow start out of the gate, lashing out with a series of quick jabs in the hope of making up for his loss of momentum, and then skipping and lashing out with a fast thrust kick that may send Frei skidding back.

COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Frei with Light Kick.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  //////////////////////////    ]
Frei             0/-------/----===|==-----\-------\0             Alma


It works! Sort of. Frei is already pretty light; lighter than Alma, in fact. Normally speed works to your *disadvantage* on sand, which is probably the case in terms of Alma's kick, which impacts nicely on Frei's shoulder as he tries to get out of the way. However, as the monk starts to slide back through the sand, he improvises, bringing his own metaphysical talents to bear. The sand resonates with earth chi, Frei's determination helping him focus on that wavelength; he practically glides across the sand as he sails backwards, coming to a stop without falling over.
Grinning, the monk doesn't waste any time on the counterattack. "'Theories of battle', huh..." he murmurs, his right hand glowing a faint green-yellow color before he simply drives it into the sand. Nothing appears to happen... until suddenly the ground under Alma erupts upwards in a violent sandstorm, looking to hurl the model into the air and then face down into the sand unceremoniously. A neat trick, but also kinda dicey. "Is fighting all you think about, Alma?" he asks cheerily.

COMBATSYS: Alma blocks Frei's Daichi Kudaki EX.

[     \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Frei             0/-------/-----==|===----\-------\0             Alma


"Hm!"
Alma can sense it, this time, but he realizes (in a very subconscious way, of course) that he only has time to either gamble on hurling himself away or can attempt to steady his position. His choice is clear; he seems prepared for the quick counterattack, crossing his arms and allowing the attack to carry him up into the air as white-gold flares around his torso in a shield-like embrace.
Then, however, he gets snazzy! For when the blast's effect begins to fade, Alma snaps his arms out and causes his aura flare to explodes out against the remaining force of Frei's sandstorm, sending Alma higher into the air. Thus using the two forces to create an impromptu energy 'platform' for him, Alma begins a sudden aerial assault, gathering all that momentum on a spiritual as well as physical level. For a moment, he seems to slow down in the air for a second, as though the world is still trying to process all the various confluences of power that are forming this nexus within Alma -- and then suddenly, with an explosion of white pink-tinged soulfire, Alma lashes out with his right foot and rockets down in a fierce flying hooking kick at Frei's body.
"Well," he says as he performs it, face deadpan and eyes looking thoughtful in a curious but disinterested sort of way, "sometimes I think about school."
And when he's done -- if he survives unscathed -- that deadpan will remain for a period of time... until it's split by a wide grin and the mirthful sparkles in his eyes.

COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Alma's Shooting Star EX.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Frei             0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0             Alma


There's a nice, dramatic crackling sound as Alma's psychic-empowered kick suddenly impacts on Frei's forearm, which is glowing a scintillating silver; for a moment the two fighters are trapped in that struggle, gravity deciding not to get in the way as Alma practically hangs on the momentum of his kick, sparks of 'soulflame' and yin chi spreading outwards in a blazing nimbus before Frei applies pressure and simply *shoves* Alma out of the way, wincing as he does so. For a moment, the monk looks confused; that hurt quite a bit more than he was expecting it to, for sure. His brow narrows as he thinks that through, spinning around to face Alma again.
Suddenly, he's all business, regarding the model with an intent gaze; his green eyes have a sudden sharpness that is really discordant with his boyish features and generally good-natured expression; as if they were drilling a hole right through Alma's face to get at what's underneath. "I noticed this the last time we fought, but... hmm. Maybe that's a question best asked after the fight." He seems... troubled.
Troubled or not, however, he's on the move, practically skating across the sand as if it weren't the traction-impeding substance it truly is, his feet shimmering with the same green-gold aura from before, until he leaps straight at Alma, hoping to snag him by the shoulder as he flips past and simply crush him right into the sand on his back.

COMBATSYS: Alma dodges Frei's Medium Throw.

[        \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////////      ]
Frei             0/-------/--=====|====---\-------\0             Alma


Alma's grin softens but remains -- because /his/ eyes only acquire that sudden sharpness after Frei leaps into a counterattack.
As planned.
With his momentum still surging from his controlled rebound after that fierce Psycho Power-enhanced kick, Alma is able to nimbly duck over and evade that grab, tilting out of the way ever so slightly -- and immediately spin on his heel in the sand, swinging his right hand around in a blur as it ignites with that same soulfire. All his combined momentum, all the rhythm of the fight so far, explodes forth into that sudden lance of power that Alma unleashes point-blank into Frei's back.
"Hoouu... HA!"

COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Frei with Self Expression.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////////       ]
Frei             1/-----==/=======|=====--\-------\0             Alma


Well, not precisely into Frei's back. He's not a total idiot; every attack opens one up to the possibility of counterattack, and that's a principle that Frei learned a long time ago. Flow through, back around. It doesn't always work; there's no fool-proof method. But as Alma leaps in with what he assumed would be a guaranteed sneak attack he in fact finds the monk facing him already, having turned on his way down from the grab. Just in time to get lanced right through the chest. His eyes widen in probable surprise... but then it hits him.
He never saw it coming.
As perhaps the thoughts of others are to Alma, the flow of the Earth's energy is to Frei. Part of his typically excellent defensive game is that people use their chi in subtle ways. You can sense it, if you're trained to. But Alma's attacks, these fiery lightshows, don't have it. And thus Frei, attuned so heavily to seeing the universe in terms of the flow of chi, doesn't even see them.
And it's astonishing how effective Alma's attack is, especially given that Frei has no real ego to crack. Unlike the people Alma Weatherwax typically uses this "see your true self" bit on, Frei knows himself pretty well. He's had time to think it over. Yet somehow neurons still flare, then burn out, leaving the monk looking exhausted.
Right up to the point where he suddenly lunges forward with terrible speed, lashing out at Alma with a single punch, a halo of silver energy like the brightest full moon surrounding it. "Oriyaaaaaaaaaaa!"

COMBATSYS: Frei successfully hits Alma with Gekkou Nocturne.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ///////////////////           ]
Frei             0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\0             Alma


"Ghh--"
Now that was impressive. Alma is at least pretty psyched about Frei's enthusiasm, here; that was a fast recovery, and one clearly inspired by resolve alone. And you know, odd as it might seem, Alma is kind of interested in that whole 'not having an ego to crack' deal, because, well... he can sort of tell. Normally, when he attacks an opponent with psychic powers, he feels himself hit a sort of mental shield which inevitably cracks and shatters. People construct arbitrary barriers between self and other, usually, and just don't think about it unless they're philosophically-minded. Frei clearly isn't like that, but as to how or why...
But enough of this! Alma just got punched! You think he's gonna take that? He staggers back, and as a result of the punch some of his energy appears to waft off of him oddly, his power drained -- but he won't let his rhythm be taken away! He skips, bobs with an odd gracefulness... and blurs out with three fierce punches, to the head and to the abdomen and to the head. Sting, Alma!

COMBATSYS: Frei blocks Alma's Strong Punch.

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////////          ]
Frei             0/-------/----===|=======\-------\0             Alma


Well. Battered though he may be, you really, REALLY need to completely destroy Frei before he stops. It's not as is he has a gradual slowdown; he runs full bore until he literally stops moving. Knowing that reprisal will not be far behind his attack, the monk snaps up his palms in quick succession, turning away the first two with relative ease and then simply *stopping* the third one dead in its tracks. He smiles faintly at Alma, though perhaps he does look a little tired behind that gaze. "Sorry about that," he almost apologizes, hoping to use his grip on Alma's hand to simply chuck him across the beach with a strength the lithe monk's body doesn't look like it should have; if he can pull that off, he extends both hands palm out, a burst of earth chi causing the sand to rise up and 'catch' Alma in a nicely abrasive way.

COMBATSYS: Alma fails to interrupt Daichi Kudaki from Frei with Divine Intervention EX.

[                  \\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Frei             0/-------/-----==|=======\-------\1             Alma


"Hmm...!"
Oho, grab his hand, will you? Well, Alma's got another hand, and this one is lighting on fire and is about to poke you in the eye, so you better /waurgh/!
That might've worked better if Frei hadn't thrown Alma. Disoriented by his Psycho Power misfire and unable to efficiently redirect what was going to be an attack, Alma can't react in time, and the blast hits him as well, sending him sprawling in the sand. He quickly rears to a sitting position, but has to take a moment to wipe his eyes and lips with the back of his hand. And fix his hair real quick.

Breathing heavily, the tortoise's soft underbelly shows. Frei's tired, and that apparently took a lot out of him. So, rather than immediately pressing the attack the monk closes his eyes, centering himself and doing some tai chi hand pushes, directing energy into, through, and out of his body with deep, slow breaths as Alma gets himself ready. The wind and sand resonate, each blowing around him in a not very flashy, but nonetheless visible display; when he stops, it gives the impression of a man walking out of flames.
Frei almost looks embarrassed as he eyes Alma carefully; his normally manic expression is gone, instead replaced with something... if not serene, then at least unruffled. "Sometimes I get lost in the yang, and don't take in enough of the yin, if that makes any sense." Getting into a defensive posture, the monk takes a deep breath, hoping to at least curtail Alma's followup long enough to get in one more clear shot. "But we should talk sometime... away from all this." He pauses, and there IS the faintest blush, though his tone is anything but playful. "About... stuff."

COMBATSYS: Frei gathers his will.

[                 \\\\\\\\\\\\\  < >  ////////////////              ]
Frei             0/-------/=======|=======\-------\1             Alma


Alma rises, steadied both physically and psychically, but he doesn't seem to want to go on the offensive right away. He's just getting the feeling that right now, that really wouldn't be nice.
He feels like he ought to say something.
"Sure," says the mild-faced youth, bishounen-esque low tones sounding game. "I like... stuff."
But there's no smile there. This is no time to play around now. It's time... to finish this! Alma lowers his head just for an instant, and then blasts forward in a huge leap, the bunching of his powerful legs evoking an eruption in the sand as he soars through the air, draws his fist back glimmering with power as he roars spiritedly...
...and punches the ground right in front of Frei.
There's a pause.
And then a geyser of white-fire Psycho Power explodes up from the ground underneath Frei, seeking to annihilate his defenses and subsume his fighting spirit completely.

COMBATSYS: Alma successfully hits Frei with Full Confession.

[                                < >  ///////////////               ]
Frei             2/<<<<<<</<<<<<<<|-------\-------\0             Alma


It doesn't take a psychic to know that Frei saw this coming. He did. In truth, he's a path-of-least-resistance sort of person. If he made it through this, great. If not, well... another lesson learned. When the geyser comes in, the monk crosses his arms in front of him, a hazy disc of light rippling the air between himself and the psychic. It's the only defense he can offer.
It shatters into a million pieces.
But perhaps Alma's own overzealousness might give him the answer to his previous question. Time stops, for the briefest of moments; in the realm of the mind, Frei floats, curled into a ball and hugging his knees, in an endless dark sea. 'Water' is certainly the theme. And as for the lack of ego, memories surface. A young child who had held a sword, a real sword, before he was 5 years old. Who was nothing but a disappointment to his mother with his lack of interest. Wanting something MORE out of life than the quick, clean cut of iaido. An internal brightness, something... shining. Continually dulled by not having an outlet. But somehow he found it by giving everything up, by digging into 'faith'. By learning so many mysteries that what seemed like a Gordian Knot of philosophy suddenly became one string, unending, stretching into the darkness.
He found what he considers 'truth': throw away everything that hurts you, everything that can cause you pain. All that's left is the act of taking one breath in, the power of yang, and exhaling one breath out, the power of yin. Inside the space of a single moment is, in his very spirit, contained... eternity. Thus he is both manic and serene, sad and joyful. He is all, and yet he is nothing.
That is Frei's lack of ego. In a frozen instant that seems to last forever, Alma's incursion into the monk's mind digs out things perhaps even Frei does not know.
But it can't last forever.
"Ha... ha..." Breathing in and out slowly, it's all Frei can do to stand on his own two feet. However, he holds his hand up in front of him, palm out. "...I can feel that," he says, voice hoarse from pain. "Right here. But..." His palm begins to glow, hazy at first, but as time goes on the monk throws the full force of his very spirit behind the effort... and the Earth responds. Sand and wind spring up in a gale; overhead, the seemingly cloudless sky suddenly darkens, as if the planet itself were answering Frei's call. Fire, ice, silvery wind, and leaves of green surround his hand in a shining halo.
He gives Alma a faint grin; it's got an almost tired quality to it. But the irises of his bright green eyes shine with the effort of controlling the forces he's called on. "You said to do my best, huh..." he mumbles. "I guess I don't have a choice, now..."

COMBATSYS: Frei can no longer fight.

[               \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\  <
Alma             0/-------/-------|


Stumbling forward at first, Frei breaks into a run, glowing hand cocked back. And once he gets near Alma, it's... probably in the model's best interest to evade. Throwing his hand forward, Frei bellows, "BREAK!" His voice echoes along the beach, and the glow around his hand stops, followed by a shockwave of sheer force directed at Alma, the air rippling with aftershock, a blast cone etched into the sand behind Frei. The sum total of all he has; the world's very soul, compressed to a single point, then released.
Whatever the outcome, Frei has a satisfied expression as he collapses to the ground face-first, spent.

COMBATSYS: Alma endures Frei's Fukami Reikai.

[                     \\\\\\\\\  <
Alma             0/-------/---====|


Alma lowers his hands as Frei gasps from the power of the assault and attempts to maintain consciousness. While Frei is gathering his power, the tall young psychic is simply watching inscrutibly, face mild-set, eyes still alight with being one with the rhythm of battle.
"I think I understand," he murmurs to himself, softly. "But is that really enough for you? That perfect flowing, that peaceful emptiness? It wasn't, for me. Because... I realized I couldn't live unless I allowed a self even as I let it go... unless I let that perfect emptiness turn to a forceful light... otherwise..."
He's just talking to himself, of course. Frei is probably busy -- and Alma should be busying himself too, because here comes Frei's best, the power of the elements channeled through chi. But Alma doesn't move to guard himself. He looks... almost expectant, in a strangely melancholy way.
"Otherwise, well... I might as well have died, there."
He watches as the shockwave comes.
~ I want to feel what might have been. ~
He does so.
...it hurts.
But even as the sand is blasted away under his feet and the energy scorches at what remains of his latent auric field, Alma closes his eyes and takes deep breaths... and slowly, bit by bit, Frei's attack begins to fade. It's clearly striking Alma, but... on some level, there's part of him that isn't there to strike. The brunt of the attack passes through him as though he were empty, as though he weren't there at all, and he is left standing. And yet...
...when he opens his eyes, they /glow/.
So that's where the world's soul went.
"Nirvana is not enough," he murmurs softly.

COMBATSYS: Alma has ended the fight here.

Log created by Alma, and last modified on 21:40:03 02/11/2006.