Edited. My capacity to type must have been drunk the first time around.
My semblance is energy. As beautifully destructive as that sounds, its not as awesome as one thinks.I can fight with blades and guns as well as anyone else, I can hold my own. Where I belong is not at the front of the line, taking and giving hits, but helping others optimize theirs. Everything is energy. Dust is energy, irrelevant of form. Aura is energy, as is life. Emptiness and cold is just as much energy as life and warmth. I can feel these things, and manipulate them. However, energy has to come from somewhere, and it cannot be created from scratch. Therefore my ingenuity, knowledge, and unorthodoxy bolsters my semblance. Today, I will change from no longer just a support fighter, assisting others in combat so that they may destroy whatever is in their path, but I will be the juggernaut.
I have discovered how to make dust not only a liquid, but one that flows through the bloodstream.
This would kill most others. But my semblance is energy. Before today, dust was chaotic, being everything but balance, turning tables wherever it manifest its presence. Make no mistake, this substance is still deadly. It is volatile. But now it achieves balance, just like any other liquid. But this fluid is pure, the balance between the chaotic living, and subtle power.
There will now be no greater threat. Energy is power, and now I will use this liquid dust to be the manifestation of power in this broken world. Today, I become a demi-god of humanity. I have healed my crippled sister. I destroyed the monster who broke her, and paid the price. I have cast down the demon inside me, becoming everything I dreamed of.
Now I feel empty. This is what I existed for, I have achieved my dream... Nothingness before me. Standing within a shop of mirrors in Vale... Is a shell. In truth a monstrosity, I was not born for this: nobody is. What do I see? A labyrinth of mirrors, framing a figure of metaphorical glass? Jet black hair... Pale skin... Brown eyes, of emptiness... Dark jeans, a throwback to older days... Black shoes, with the thinnest rubber soles... A collared black shirt, with a black jacket over top... I don't belong here. In pursuit of a door, an item which we chase but never meet, brings a collision with a girl describable only by two colors: black and red, with a strange, rectangular item between her waist and red hood.
Why will the following happen? Is it a crest of the darkest sins coming to unfold in a mockingly poetic sense? Or is this God who has stepped forwards to call me a fool? Or will I replace the evil which has taken this realm of Remnant, only to become a tyrant? Only time can tell.