Why is Six afraid of Seven?

"What a fucking disappointment," The sour look on her face deepened as red vitae sprayed her way, as though it was someone else's fault that her victim could not bleed without gushing or die without screaming, even without an audience Zero was toxic as any one person could possibly be. "Waste of my goddamn time..."

Before her sat the disarmed corpse of what had once been a thoroughly unimpressive young man named Nowe, pun intended, the fight itself had been miserably quick. Such that the blood on Zero's sword hadn't even the time to dry by the time the boy had breathed his last. Despite that Mikhail had successfully managed to get himself lost among the mounds of petrified bone and scale between then and now, as was his tendency to do so any time they arrived in a new location. It made her sigh. This 'Dragon Graveyard' was a solemn place, not a playground for toddlers, and considering that it was the boy's first time seeing another of his kind outside of Gabrielle one would think he'd show some measure of respect for his ancestors.

Not necessarily the case...

"Something is wrong with that boy's head." Zero herself was but a human, albeit of a most unusual mold. She stood just a few inches under six feet tall and wore a dress that had, up until a few seconds ago, been the purest white, and was slowly wringing the red from its threads, whether by way of magic or something stranger yet was a question even she wasn't answering. A mottled silver blade with a halfmoon hilt was clutched in her left hand while the right had long since been replaced with a different kind of weapon, from the elbow down the entire limb had been replaced with a black iron gauntlet that bore hooking claws and ridged edges, as well as a few extra surprises for those threats too hardy for bludgeoning or chopping. Just the same, her face was beautiful and her body perfect, without blemish and soft to the touch, almost like a newborns, while her hair was a perfect silver and straight down her back, only slightly held back from her face by way of large black bow.

And then there was the pink flower that had replaced one of her eyes, but that was neither here nor there.

It certainly didn't hurt her vision, if anything helped it by way of imparting a supernatural sensitivity upon her. Once Zero had thought herself free from the madness, cleverly offering her life to save the world but allowing herself to be reborn through a Pact with the white dragon Mikhail, as an infant child she'd been free to meander the world untethered by the burden of duty, or at least that's what she'd though. But once you were marked for heroism the universe had a funny way of bringing back for another ride. For the past several months she'd been dealing with the uncanny League of Paris, a separatist group of sociopathic wizards who had apparently claimed some minor power after the collapse of her sister's empire, but they had been mere frustrations. Not so for the stark realization that her sister One was neither dead nor inactive, and since then the other Intoners had been finding some way to climb from the cracks of reality, some she assumed had escaped from dead timelines and others were just too clever for their own good.

'What a fucking bother', that's what she'd said then and she was still saying it not, head shaking itself back and forth as she clopped across the rocks. Why she wore high heels everywhere she went was anyone’s guess. "I hope this wasn't your master plan, lure me out here to fight a teenage boy who can barely hold his dick, if I find out you wasted my time..." She assumed One to be the person who had lobbied for this challenge, a duel between Dragon Masters to decide who was the greatest, and with it presumably another step in Mikael’s continued evolution, now that they had a pact it was hers too. “Well, where’s the catch already?”