The lone doll was ushered into an inner chamber, heavy doors slamming shut behind it as it walked the length of the courtroom with an inhuman grace. To its sides, dozens of priestesses and attendants murmured at its presence, but its focus was singular. On a radiant throne directly ahead of it, a titanic figure…

“What do you make of it?” The witch stood on an outcropping, a barren desert out ahead of the two of them. Meager wisps of sand floated off of cracked rocks, shifting into flurries as titanic footsteps echoed across the the wasteland. “At least three kilometers tall, Miss.” the combat doll watched the titan in…

“Maybe it’s better, this way. You’ll be so much safer, away from here. You won’t have to worry about us anymore. That witch, she promised to keep us safe, in exchange for you. So be brave for us, and when this is all over, we’ll see each other again, yeah?” The witch once more awoke…

“Your abilities are entirely lacking, witchling. Your time here has been a mockery of everything the Sisterhood stands for. Your mere existence is offensive, and you have done absolutely nothing to prove otherwise to us. Die, and return your magicks to the earth.” It was the last thing the witch remembered when he opened his…

“Hey doll, come look at this, I think I found-” The witch rounded the corner to find an unexpected sight: his doll sitting in the middle of the burial chamber, arms outstretched into the light now beaming down through the broken roof. “…Doll?” The doll turned to look at him, an unusual light now behind…