Arha saw it in her mind, then, this oct-o-pooze sword--the way it should be. The idea of it came in the flick of her wrist, a twist of her mind, a reshaping. The eagerness of it solidified the phantom limb feeling until she could feel exactly what she wanted. Flick. The arms aligned, snapping out, a sword-like extension of her own body. Arha delighted in the response time, pleased that it had done what she asked.

She held it up, studying its angles for a moment and then moved in an intricate series of katas. Block, block, parry, thrust, spin, block. The oct-o-pooze sword flowed with her, wielded with grace and confidence. Yes. She did like this thing.

It felt...right.

She swung back into place before Roxie, her face flushed as she grinned.

"It feels natural," Arha said.