Discovery.
Connection.
The terrifying, beautiful moment when you realize you don't have to be alone.
My movements soften at the edges.
The blade work becomes less aggressive, more flowing—still deadly, but graceful in a way that suggests control rather than chaos. I'm not fighting invisible enemies anymore. I'm dancing with them. Transforming them from threats into partners.
Sweat drips down my face.
I can feel it—the salt stinging my eyes, the wetness tracking down my temples and jaw, the evidence of how hard I'm working. My breath comes faster now, chest heaving, lungs burning, but I don't let it show in my face.
Expression matters.
Tell the story with your eyes as well as your body.
The panels of my costume are separating now—designed to shift and release as the performance progresses, revealing the softer layers beneath. Dark fabric gives way to glimpses of rose and gold, the transformation becoming visible.
Breaking apart.
Opening up.
Showing what's underneath the armor.
A leap?—
Grand jeté, blades extended, my body suspended in midair for a moment that feels like eternity.
Flying.
Free.
Alive in a way I'd forgotten I could be.
I land softly, transitioning immediately into a spin that sends my costume swirling around me, the revealed colors catching the light like flames. My blades trace patterns in the air—figure eights, circles, crosses that would look like prayer if they weren't so dangerous.
The music is building toward the climax.
I can feel it coming—the crescendo that will demand everything I have left, the final push that will determine whether this performance is memorable or merely competent.
Don't hold back.
Don't save anything.
Empty yourself onto this stage and trust that it will be enough.
My body moves without conscious thought now.
Years of training taking over, muscle memory guiding me through sequences I've practiced so many times they've become instinct. The blades are extensions of my arms, moving in perfect synchronization with every leap, every turn, every impossible balance.
Somewhere in the darkness, I hear a gasp.
Good.
They're feeling something.
That's the goal.
