[hr][hr][center][h1][/h1][img] https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/504122082729132034/756988552734310500/Waverley_Moodboard_Extra_Smoll.jpg[/img][hr]
[color=Purple][b]Location:[/b][/color] The Lincoln Memorial
[color=Purple][b]Skills:[/b][/color] [/center][hr][hr]
	Waverley watched on, camera in hand, the light blinking away as the looming figure's voice boomed out, giving his hateful monologue. This was it. Their penultimate moment. What it was all leading up to. It was their darkest hour, and shortly, it would give way to the dawn. She watched, stood with her friends, getting ready to do what she could to help them defeat the monster of a man. Then, light flashed from Callie's fingertips, streaking out towards him.

	Even through the crackling of Callie's lightning, Waverley could hear it. More so she could feel it, reverberating through her bones, rocking her to her core. The clicking of that button was the most horrifying collection of soundwaves she'd ever felt, carrying more weight than any scream of agony or gunshot could ever hope to. It all happened so fast. Waverley's forehead wrinkled in an expression as confused as it was terrified.

	[i][color=purple]"This isn't how it's supposed to...we're the heroes..."[/color][/i] Waverley croaked out in disbelief, or perhaps she didn't. She certainly thought it, and she felt her lips move to form the syllables. But in the detonation, and through the sudden whipping of icy wind around them, combined with the general chaos, she couldn't tell whether or not the words had made it up her throat. It didn't matter. The sentiment was clear in her teary eyes. They failed. They weren't able to save anyone. But that's not how it was supposed to go, they were the good guys, they were supposed to win. Every story she'd read, every movie she watched, everything that had pulled her into this life of altruism, they always taught that as long as you were willing to sacrifice anything and everything, then you can save the day. Well she [i]was[/i] willing. She whispered to the universe that it could take her and everything she had if it saved even one mutant child. But it didn't listen. 

	The ice had made its way up her abdomen, and was creeping down her arms. Almost instinctively, she reached out for something, someone, some form of comfort as the cold took her. She found Sunshine's hand, grabbing hold of it, the warmth of her palm the last thing Waverley felt before her fingers went numb. She could feel the ice creeping up her neck, her eyes squeezing tightly closed, causing a tear to slip out onto her cheek. Her lips trembled inaudible words as the ice began to encase her head. In seconds, she was frozen, her prayer left unfinished in her now quiet mind.