only satisfies when it is total.

A hard look settles over your features. She just stood aside as the rest of your party sacrificed you. She, with the rest of them, left you for dead. She may not have been an active or willing participant in the plot to kill you, but she did nothing to fight it, either.

Your eyes glow a deep sangria, your vision once more tinted a sanguine red. Every cell in your body seems to scream out the same thing: All those who wronged you must pay with their blood. You advance upon the dwarf as she cringes into the wall, eyes darting about in search of an escape as she clutches the axe. She spies what she thinks is an opening, legs tensing to bolt.

You are faster. She gasps, dropping the axe which clatters metallically against the stone below. Her wide eyes stare into yours, tears welling and spilling as she struggles for air. Your lips twist into a demented sort of smile; the fight to live comes far too late.

A shiver runs through you, its origin in your right hand where, as with Rolf before her, your clawed fingers have pierced her heart, transforming her into cerulean energy and absorbing her into yourself. The sensation, however, is different from that with Rolf. Before you had felt a surge of strength, of power; pure, raw power. This seems to be a far more subtle effect. Vaguely, you feel your lungs breath a little better, your heart beat a little stronger, your mind process a little faster. This change is not something you will actively use or see. Asta's soul seems to be strengthening your vital organs, your health, your endurance. As she evanesces into your being, you watch as your injuries from your two battles vanished, flesh pulling together seamlessly, as if nothing had happened at all. Why? Is it that Asta, unlike her master, had a more pure soul? She was, generally speaking, a good person. Perhaps that is why she primarily seems to be healing you.

All this time, she has been barely whispering questions, calling your name, asking why you are doing this to her. In the last seconds before her form is entirely unrecognizable, she manages one last word:

"Goodbye..."

In your present state, you notice nothing. All you care about is what this new surge of energy is doing to your body. You feel as though you have this wellspring of energy ready to tap at any moment, like a source of power to fuel your magical abilities. Soon, the only trace of the two dwarves is the axe still lying on the floor. The mythril blue gem which had appeared in the gauntlet with Rolf's **** was surrounded with a thin ring of pastel pink, barely noticeable.

You stand there, breathing heavily, taking a moment to process all that just happened through your mind a few times until you can properly grasp it all. Two. You just took down two of the people who had condemned you to ****. And it had felt... amazing. The sensations, physical and emotional, were so wonderful you can't even put them into words. A smile clung to your features as you stand straight, looking down at your expanded armor. The only change to it with Asta's soul was the pink gem ringing the mythril one. Maybe she was too good of a soul for the dark matter to grow its form. It had already grown quite a bit with Rolf alone, anyway.

You turn towards the exit, staring out into the fading daylight beyond.

Petra fluttered up behind you, hovering a foot or so away from your shoulder. Clearly, she isn't sure how to react to what just happened, whether to speak or not.