It had taken some time but the blank slate of mind that had befuddled "Charco" had begun to develop. Although lacking in personality and in "heart", the conflicting minds of man vs beast found a single point of clarity within the storm: combat. With eons of experience of battle between the two of them, it was understood that rage alone would not suffice. The child-like fury subsided, becoming a cold stoicism as he focused on Persephone; she had been the first he had encountered, and her actions had imprinted upon him with the need to destroy her. Her demise was the only thing he had ever known.
The hand that collected energy clenched just a bit more tightly into a fist and the gathering power surged, creating smokey wisps that trailed from the mass. Green in hue around the edges, one would begin to notice its gradual darkening towards the very center where the coalescing ki was a pea-sized hole of pitch darkness.
Lain's Fang, beholden to no master but itself, would accept the challenge of Persephone's nameless sword but her thirst for its destruction would not be quenched. Having long shed its physical shape, the transcended blade existed as a manifested concept, the crystallization of an unknown swordsmith's desire. It was not the flesh of man it had been forged to rend, a fact she would quickly discover as the refined orichalcum tore apart like wet tissue paper, severing the magical circuits that comprised it.
Raising his fist before him, Persephone's decision to focus on the sword had allowed "Charco" to gather enough energy to satisfy his unknown criteria. Whipping that arm to his side, the back of his hand struck the air, creating a visible ripple whose intensity increased until reality gave way. A loud cracking filled the air as glass-like spider-web fractures split the air, each line tracing its way back to the sphere of energy that now acted like its nucleus. The ki orb collapsed into itself, creating a fist-sized hole. Whatever he had done, he had completed. Whatever he had planned, he was now ready.