“Girl. Follow or die.” 

The words came to her through the sonorous din of the collapsing temple, her eyes following the mtyholi’s form on its journey across the courtyard. She scoffed as she recalled a favorite phrase of her father’s, picked up during his time fighting alongside Americans during the First Contact War. Najwa shifted to English as she muttered into tempestuous winds, “What an asshole.”

She considered the demon’s hesitance at engaging her head on, weighing various contingencies. Perhaps its purpose was to prolong the conflict, thus preventing her from returning to her comrades at Marange. Were they safe during all this? Or did it mean to goad her into lashing out in an attempt to capitalize on an emotional outburst? Calculations drifted through her mind at hyper-speed and she began to act as the mtyholi’s sole foot sank deep into the stone of an adjacent pillar, its intricate design obliterated with the impact.

Najwa’s torso shifted at the hips, knees beginning to bend as her right shoulder came up in a looping arc. She shot forward in a short parabola that covered a few meters, her thrown fist crashing downwards through the initial layer of the courtyard’s cobblestone, driving deep into the mountain. She remained on one knee as a network of fissures erupted from the impact’s epicenter; they channeled through the stone supports of gates and the temple’s foundation alike. 

The courtyard shifted in a sickening manner and, with a sudden groan from deep within the mountain, it began to fall away into darkness below with the majority of the temple following close behind. Najwa’s weight shifted as she rolled forward into a series of descending somersaults, the soles of her boots coming into the contact with a plummeting pillar in a feat of exemplary coordination. She ran along its surface before pushing off, her motions bringing her closer to the sensation of moisture that clung to her skin as she deftly avoided the storm of incoming debris. Najwa’s palms pressed against the mountain’s interior wall for but a moment before she sprung off the surface, acrobatically launching herself into a subterranean pool with a graceful splash. She extended her senses outward in an attempt to localize her opponent’s position as wreckage continued to crash all around, the light from high above providing little illumination at this depth.