Luz Tovera tossed and turned in restless sleep, the Arm straining against its restraint as she thrashed on sweat-soaked sheets, caught in the grip of a nightmare whose details she would not mercifully recall once morning came...

She stood on the top of a tall building, looking down on the city of Angelus spread out at Her feet, the myriad lights reflecting dimly on Her polished stone body.

She was nude. She had no need or desire to cover the magnificence of Her ebon skin with worthless cloth or leather. She stretched, luxuriating in her new-found strength and freedom. While She normally did not think of Herself as female, She found it pleasurable to adopt this aspect of the mortal form She now possessed.

It was perfect, solid and strong. She knew enough about this world to know these lowly creatures would consider her form shapely, and this pleased Her even more. She frowned slightly as She became aware of flaws on her skin, a series of indentations marring the left side of her face.

Scars, She recalled them being called. With a dismissive swipe of her hand, she removed the disfigurement, erasing the lines like a potter removing cracks in soft clay.

It had taken too long for Her to manifest fully. The foolish underlings who had sought to call Her forth had botched the ritual and trapped Her in semi-existence, only partially in the world and subject to the whims of the previous inhabitant of this body.

But now She was finally here. She smiled, as the thought of fulfilling Her charge sent an arc of anticipation flashing across her cold hard skin. She was created to cleanse, to purify, to remove all that was unworthy and make this world a suitable vessel for Her masters. As She looked down, She could see she had Her work cut out for Her.

And inside the shiny black figure, Luz Tovera’s soul screamed in anger, frustration and despair.