Mana pooled in her right hand and along her wings like frost on steel.

If she wanted, her next move would be a window-leap, a hawk’s climb, a comet’s dive at the mountain-sized beast rolling this way.

If she wanted, she could throw herself into the fight like a stone into stormwater.

But a catch tightened in her chest like a knotted rope, and she hesitated at the sill.

The reasons were simple, like weights on a scale.

First, she wasn’t sure Shelika could take that thing head-on, like a knife against a glacier.

Second, for Fulin this fight meant little, like a candle to a gale; guarding the city might soothe the heart, but reason said victory bought only that.

At bottom, Fulin didn’t want the spotlight, like a shadow hugging a wall, a small selfish wish she owned.

"Let’s just run," Shelika said, feet halting mid-step, turning from the window like a tide pulling back.

A far-off roar leaked through the panes like thunder behind hills.

Charlotte’s lackeys traded looks like tossed stones, then nodded together like reeds in wind.

"Got it, everyone move, we’re leaving the city!" someone barked, voice like a whip crack.

They’d planned this already, bags tied tight like cocoons; only Charlotte still shook on the bed like a rabbit in a snare.

Shelika hovered, torn between back or bridal carry like a forked path, when the scar-faced man came with a sheet like a white flag.

"Sorry, Boss," he said, voice like gravel.

He wrapped Charlotte in the sheet like a silkworm, neat as cargo.

Then he hoisted her to his shoulder like a sack, stomped downstairs, and dumped her into the wagon like loading a crate.

By that sliver of time, the whole crew had piled onto the beast-drawn wagon like fish into a net.

The scar-faced man vaulted to the driver’s bench like a cat, took the rhino’s reins like a helm, and looked at Shelika by the wheel-well like a question mark.

"Miss, want to ride with us?" he called, words like a rope tossed across water.

"We’re heading west to Fendes City, toward the capital, few beasts there," he added, plan laid out like a map.

Shelika looked at their ready faces like lit lanterns, then at Charlotte shivering like a leaf, and her heart clenched like a fist.

Hesitation lapped at her for a few seconds like shore-waves.

"No," Shelika breathed, a sigh like mist.

"All right. Safe roads, miss," he said, farewell like a door closing.

The wagon rolled off like a boulder down slope.

Shelika turned away too, feet sliding toward the alley mouth like water to a gutter.

The beast’s footfalls grew nearer, drums under earth like thunderheads, and her pace quickened like a hare’s dash.

At the alley’s mouth, the Eternal War Armor waited like a crouched bear.

"Kept you waiting," Shelika said, voice like a hand on metal.

Beep-beep, came the reply, bright as sparks.

It rose from its squat like a waking giant.

"Let’s go," she said, resolve like flint.

Beep-beep, the machine agreed, quick as a nod.

Machine and girl moved for the city gate like two shadows tracking the sun.

Unlike the empty street before, the beast’s breach had shaken loose a flood; refugees streamed like a river, hurrying for the gate.

Faces were pinched like winter fruit, each brow a storm-line.

As she walked within the flow, Shelika heard talk bitter as dregs, sighs drifting like dead leaves.

"We have Lady Hela guarding us," someone muttered, hope thin as thread.

"Is this city done too..." another said, voice like rain on stone.

Helpless tones soon turned on the powers-that-be like a wind shifting.

"Blame the Temple! What ‘Divine Grace’? Looks more like they angered the Earth Mother and brought ‘Divine Punishment’!" a voice snapped, sharp as broken glass.

"Enough, stop talking, just move!" someone else hissed, urgency like fire at your back.

As the sullen crowd pushed for the gate like a herd under storm, the colossal beast veered, not for the tight-built quarter, but straight for them like a thunderhead breaking low.

Panic blew open like a flock of birds.

"Don’t come any closer!" they cried, voices scattering like sparks.

They ran, but it was running in mud; the beast’s stride was long as a landslide, and the rumble swelled like an oncoming tide.

It kicked through houses like paper screens, then barreled onto the tail of the crowd like a bull into wheat.

Shelika saw it throw its roar like a spear, and line up a charge at the slowest like a scythe to stalks.

"So I have to step in..." she hissed, teeth set like a clamp.

They were Dark Spirits, yet they were innocent, like children under rain; to watch them get pulped underfoot would bruise the soul like a black fruit.

"Go," she snapped, her doubt burning off like fog.

She leapt and spun onto the Eternal War Armor’s shoulder like a swallow to a branch.

Its breastplate opened like a flower, revealing the cockpit like a hollow heart, ready for her.

But a surge pricked the sky above like lightning, and she froze on the shoulder like a statue.

She looked up, eyes wide as moons; a mage flight squadron cut the air like a flock of cranes.

The leader took point, hovering before the beast like a lone peak.

"I am Hela, High Mage guarding this place!" her voice rang, bright as a bell.

"You trespass and ravage. By the Earth Mother’s authority, I cast down heaven’s judgment!" she declared, words like a seal.

Short and solemn as a drumbeat, the vow ended, and the squad began to cast like weavers at looms.

"Lady Hela’s here, she’ll save us!" the citizens cried, cheers rising like warm wind.

They worked fast, hands a blur like wings; before the beast could even snarl, a torrent of mana poured into Hela like rivers to sea, forming a vast vortex above her like a storm eye.

Hela raised her staff like a spear, pointed at the beast like a hunter, and the vortex fired a beam, a roaring river of light surging for the target.

The beast spat a pillar of fire like a volcano, stubborn as rock, but the beam pressed it back like a tide swallowing flame.

Light punched through the beast like a sun-lance, clean and merciless.

At the wound, a riptide of mana erupted like a burst dam, wrapped the beast like a net, and blossomed in a grand explosion like fireworks at dusk.

In a handful of seconds, the monster was gone like smoke.

Awe rippled through the crowd like a wave.

"So strong, that’s Lady Hela’s power!" people gasped, faces shining like wet stone.

But while cheers wheeled like swallows, Hela suddenly dropped from the sky like a cut kite.

Other mages reacted fast as lightning, catching her fall like a net, and laid her down gentle as snow.

She lay there, eyes shut tight against pain like a drawn bow, body still as a fallen leaf.

Worry climbed the faces around her like ivy.

"She burned too much mana, Lady Hela’s fainted!" a mage shouted, diagnosis crisp as a knife.

Hearing that, many let their hearts settle like dust.

Soldiers and knights arrived to steady the streets like pillars, and hunters came too like wolves nosing the wind.

Seeing order hold without her blade, Shelika let out a breath like a loosened knot, and curiosity rose like steam.

What kind of mage cast destruction like that, bright as noon?

With that thought, she walked that way like a moth to a lantern.

The soldiers let her pass like reeds parting water, so she came close enough to see the face like a portrait.

One look, and her heart jumped like a startled bird; it was the Blood Clan woman who’d pitched her that “monster-flavor” special not long ago.

In a way, this woman had been the hinge that swung her back to Charlotte like fate’s door.

"So you’re Hela..." Shelika murmured, the world feeling small as a courtyard.

Other mages came over, glances quick as knives.

"Are you a friend of Lady Hela?" they asked, words flat as boards.

"No," she said, answer short as a snap.

"Then don’t get in our way. Step aside," they said, focus returning like a blade to whetstone.

They bent to their healing like monks at prayer, and Shelika turned to leave like a shadow slipping off a wall.

She hadn’t gone far when the Eternal War Armor stopped cold like a tree rooted deep.

"What is it, big guy?" Shelika asked, confusion prickling like rain.

A beat later, the armor moved strange as a startled beast, and lunged a step to cover her with its bulk like a shield.

"What are you doing?!" she yelped, pinned beneath it like a pressed flower.

Then the sky fell in white, dense orbs, dropping like meteors and slamming down like shells.

Each sphere hit and blossomed like artillery, thunder blooming along the street like a field of storms.

Hundreds of spell-bombs detonated where people stood like weeds, a massacre spattering the stones like red rain.

Under the Eternal War Armor’s shelter, Shelika heard her eardrums tear like paper, and her organs howl like beasts; beyond that, nothing reached her.

The blasts ended fast as a summer squall, and the sonic wounds in her body knit fast like grass after rain.

The armor rose in one smooth heave like a sunrise, and Shelika pushed up too like a swimmer breaking surface.

And there she saw it, the sight called hell on earth, opened like a pit.