“[color=green]Lucis—![/color]”

“[color=92278f][i]Get the fuck out of the way![/i][/color]”

[i]Magnifique[/i] slammed through [i]Jubilee[/i] and the Modir, throwing them apart in a bloom of dust and debris. He hardly saw them, practically forgot anyone else was there. He crashed through the tertiary barricade, scattering what was left of RISC’s defenses, and stomped onto the platform, crushing or kicking off anything in his way. 

“[color=gray][i]Lucis![/i][/color]” Besca yelled. “[color=gray]Lucis [i]stop![/i][/color]”

“[color=92278f]Send it up! Send it up now![/color]” he shrieked. “[color=92278f]I’ll mulch every last fucking person on here [i]send it up get me out![/i][/color]”

“[color=gray]It’s going! It’s—send it up! It’s going![/color]”

Sure enough, the platform hissed and rumbled, and began to rise. [i]Magnifique[/i] dropped to his hand and knees, panting heavy breaths of steam. The Savior let out low, keening noises, shuddering like he was made of leaves.

Below, the Modir was the first to its feet, and with its newfound freedom it snatched up its cannon. Red eyes trained on the rising lift, black ichor seeped from its mouth. Fixated. It had seen something there, something that needed to die. 

It raised the cannon, the maw brightened. 

A burning chain wrapped around the barrel, but this time it was ready. When it pulled taut, when it yanked, the Modir swung with it and brought the cannon around. It fired. 

A gout of flame blew through [i]Jubilee[/i]’s chest. 

The Savior staggered back, chains falling from her hands. The Modir lunged out, dug long, sharp fingers into her neck and dragged her in close. Then it ripped her head from her shoulders. 

There was a brief cry over the comms. Besca gripped the table as Safie’s vitals blinked out. 

“[color=skyblue][i]Safie?![/i][/color]" Dahlia shrieked—when had she undeafened? Oh god. “[color=skyblue]Was that Safie? Where’d she go? She’s not on comms! Besca what happened to Safie! [i]Besca![/i][/color]”

[hr][hr]
The elevator continued to rise. She’d been left behind, and with every passing moment it seemed like there’d be no time left for it to come back. The voice, that itch—had it lied to her? Had it wanted this? Wanted her here, abandoned? Alone. 

But you were never alone. [color=black]I’m[/color] here.

“[color=darkorange]I’m here.[/color]”

Great arms wrapped around her. Daz. He hoisted her up like she were feathers in a silk bag, and suddenly they were moving. He took her past the anchor, towards the open field. 

“[color=darkorange]Don’t look,[/color]” he rumbled. “[color=darkorange]Don’t look.[/color]”

Something wet touched her, or rather, she touched something wet. It was Daz. It was like he’d just come out of the lake, he was absolutely soaking. Sticky. He smelled like the boat. Like the fish still lying there on the deck. 

Behind them the Modir left [i]Jubilee[/i]’s corpse and raised its cannon once more. The maw grew bright, quickened, and with no more obstacles left it shot free and clear. The blast of fire soared across the night sky, left a smoke scar across the face of the moon. 

It struck the platform full-on. Flames burst from within the cherry-light cage and it flickered out, sending a hundred tons of burning metal debris in free-fall towards the lake.  

“[color=darkorange]Don’t look, Quinnlash.[/color]” Daz said, though even he paused. In the scant light there was horror in his eyes, even if it didn’t twist his face. He watched the fiery comets with tragic awe. 

Then he noticed one falling oddly, arcing differently from the others. In fact, it hadn’t come from the explosion at all. It had come from above, far above. 

From Aerie. 

Daz held Quinn tight. The smell of iron grew stronger. He marched further into the fields.