Alexa has never felt so alive.

She is a fire! Every slab of stone sings with energy, every ornamental filigree must surely be streaming molten. Every step is forward--no phalanx to hold her back, nothing to stop her advance, nothing that could match her!

She is a song! Her every movement is grace, freed of thoughts of who she is, what she is, what others see her, how she must mold and fit what they wish. See her dance!

Careless! She should be terrified, concerned! Worried about the supports she's severing, worried about Isty! The moment a flurry of blows finally overwhelms the Aegis should put her to flight, but the thoughts won't come--refuse to come! Cower back into the mind with shame! See, now, the freedom denied her!

Honestly, she's pretty sure she's going to need help to unpack this. It's liberating! But confusing! There's no control! No defense! No concern for others! She is berserk, unleashed! It's glorious, beautiful!

And the most terrifying thing she's ever felt.