Americana
Hours passed. Life returned to relative normativity as their goddess waited. She sat on the bench and leaned back, listening to the chirping of the birds and the rustle of the leaves through the gentle winds. The goddess closed her eyes, leaned back, and thought back to better days.
It felt so long ago now-almost as if it were ancient history. She'd been Columbia's most loyal servant-her knight in shining armor, leading the charge in every battle to protect the freedom of her goddess. She'd cut through hordes of foes, slain great monsters, all to advance the needs of her god. And then, she'd been chosen. She'd accepted the fullest brunt of Columbia's embrace; become one with her goddess. She'd promised to serve her for eternity everlasting, and well...
She clenched her fist, tightening her grip upon her sword. She remained loyal-she would purify Columbia, one day. Now, she had to face this filthy demon in order to keep going. One day, she'd become strong enough to defeat the demon lord herself-destroy the source of the people's ills and return her goddess to her senses. The one which, so long ago, she'd promised to protect with her life.
Americana moved slowly. She was in no rush to begin this confrontation, and meandered her way down the long winding paths between the trees and across the stone bridges, finding her way to Lily after a long and pleasant hour. She looked down upon Lily with a dismissive yet silent frown. It was disgusting-everything about Lily made her skin crawl. The sexualized, childlike form she took, the gentle sway of her hips as she walked, and the skimpy, form-fitting bodysuit which even further accentuated the sensual yet chiseled musculature of her body. She clenched her fist, and finally spoke. "What is your purpose in invading our sanctum, demon?"