For most of the night after Piper's most recent visit, Cyclonis sat in the darkness staring into nothingness.
Her words to Piper had not only shocked the girl but herself as well. For so long, she felt the emotions weigh heavily upon her chest and endured the thoughts as they scraped at the base of her skull. It was now that she not only heard them, but spoke the words of her torment that she began to understand.
At one time, she literally had the world in her grasp. The Cyclonian Empire's conquest of Atmos was complete; then those cursed Storm Hawks, those horrible teens, brought down an empire. And Piper was the key to their success. The raw destructive force of her powers, her masterful use of the Binding, all her rage and scorn was all directed at the grasp of the great and powerful Cyclonia. Cyclonis thought to herself whether or not it was so horrible for the strong to rightfully take their place over the weak. Was it not the law of nature?
She had lost control. In the dead of night she fell upon a blade of realization that sank deeply into her conscious mind. Just months ago, she had held dominion over all things on Atmos. It was hers. She had done what no Master of Cyclonia had done before her. Now, she realized that the entirety of her authority had not only been diminished, but entirely extinguished. Cyclonia was no more.
Piper and her allies were like a raging river that doused the flames of her success, and separated her from her goals. The broken master winced, quickly narrowing her eyes and balling her hand into a fist as her thoughts ran from under her. Cyclonis, remembering her last battle with the Piper in the skies of Terra Cyclonia, began to understand what she had truly lost.
"Dark Ace…" she whispered into the darkness.
Her nails dug deeply into either of her palms, allowing blood to slowly trickle from the spaces between her fingers.
She had killed him. Unlike Ravess and Snipe, who followed her only out of fear, the Dark Ace had sworn his life to her service. And she had killed him nonetheless. It was an accident, of course. Her own desire for power and conquest had meant his death. He was the only person, save for her grandmother, she had ever trusted. Shortly thereafter she had been apprehended by the Storm Hawks, too distraught to escape to the Farside through the portal she had opened.
The blood, flowing freely from her shaking fists, left smears of red on the white stone floor. Tears rolled down her cheeks. She began to think of her parents.
They, just like everyone else, believed she was some type of monster, an abomination. They feared her at some point. Everyone did. She was a strange, quiet child, certainly, and had always been. There was no respect, none whatsoever. When they died, her grandmother - the Master of Cyclonia - took it upon herself to raise her granddaughter. She was a cold, aloof woman but had treated her well. When she too eventually died and Cyclonis was crowned the new Master, her military advisors had molded the quiet child into the sinister warlord she now was.
Grinding her teeth together and placing her arms across her stomach, she doubled over in pain. Her innards seemed to blaze within her. She felt as if she was dying. Slowly her forehead met the floor, her matted and tangled hair following. The pain spread through her limbs, burning her muscles and joints in tandem.
She suppressed her voice, making sure not to cry out or betray her weakness to the guards and staff. They all hated her and enjoyed watching her suffer. Cyclonis was certain of it. She would not give them the pleasure. Her thoughts lost coherence and the darkness consumed her.
The deposed master kicked and squirmed as her muscle spasms escaped her control. She gripped at the floor, fingers sliding unable to catch hold. She forcefully scrunched up her cot as her feet pushed against the ground in an instinctive tactic to escape the pain. Her voice betrayed her, as she could no longer bear the pain. Loud shrieks of suffering escaped her throat, filling her ears with horror. The darkness captured her once more.
Her head ached with an intense pounding, her muscles were sore. She couldn't move, save for turning her head. She felt as if she was lying upon a soft bed, but she couldn't be sure. The light hurt her eyes, almost blinding her as she attempted to open them. Her vision was filled with colors of indistinguishable shapes. However, she saw blue hair, hazel eyes and a soft smile before losing consciousness once again.