[There's a sourness that crosses her expression, her nose crinkling ever so slightly at that. The savior, a prophecy... Lightning's never liked the idea of her fate being decided for her – that she was prophesized to be the savior before she ever got the chance to say no. She tries to wash down the bad taste in her mouth with the coffee, but it tastes more bitter than usual.]
no subject
I'm no Agito, whoever this person is.
[Lightning – she's just Lightning.]
I haven't saved anyone. Not yet.