A small beetle flies a top her nose. It is an old friend repaying a favor. Inside, she smiles, the dread evaporating.
The gold becomes flesh, the silver becomes cloth, and the copper becomes beautiful hair. The diamond on the floor is gone, in its place a small dot of water shines. She draws her sword and steps down from her pedestal, walking over to his turned back. She taps her foot, waiting. He whirls around, staring into her firm eyes.
She raises her sword and strikes hard. He falls to the floor, dead and defeated. With a simple word, the body vanishes. Outside, she is greeted as a hero.
Yet she is faceless.