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[i]Collab with [/i][@Letter Bee].
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Golden light pounded the earth like artillery fire, a methodical, maniacal barrage of energy. All around Marta, the ground was being pock-marked by smoking, scorched holes. By now, the nun had been herded away from the more industrialized parts of the camp in her harried flight, leaving a trail of molten, melted craters that had eventually transitioned from concrete to dirt. A few trees had even been ignited by the superhot passage of the projectiles, and they now burned merrily, casting portions of the night into an eerie orange glow.

One shot every 2 and a half seconds, that was the pattern, like mocking clockwork, practically on the dot. Each golden beam -arrow really- of plasma speared down from above like the casual, arrogantly playful poke of a child with a magnifying glass, slowly crisping an ant under the sunlight. And, of course, all of this was accented by the ongoing unironic peals of gleeful laughter from above, as the Zodiac’s Rooster hunted her prey… [i]toyed with her[/i]. There was just barely enough space between her attacks to dodge, to [i]flee[/i]… but only [i]just[/i], such was the speed of the actual attacks themselves once launched.

It was the game of a tyrant, savoring every second of the torment and subjugation of her future plaything. For someone of the Rooster’s particular [i]tastes[/i], the idea of corrupting and defiling a genuine modern-day nun (even if she wasn’t presently dressed as one, a thing to be rectified) was simply too delicious to refuse. It was like waving sweet ambrosia under her nose. The fact that the nun was an actual looker played no small part either, of course, an adorably petite little thing that Ai Chen would [i]jubilantly[/i] relish breaking into her newest pet.

This was The Rooster’s obsession, her [i]vice[/i], enabled most extensively by uncaring superiors as long as she continued to do her job, to provide value as one of the PLA’s greatest PR show-ponies and most formidable warriors on the battlefield. Of course, she spent as much time caring for and cultivating her happy little flock of toys as she could get away with, reigning with an iron fist as the unstoppable jailor of one of the most secure prisons the PLA had, solely by the merit of her frequent presence. Even in the heat of this madness, there was no greater concern for her than expanding her collection of playthings.

At least… [i]up until the air began to buzz with a familiar static electricity[/i].

Its approach had almost gone unnoticed in the darkness, the familiar sight of the roiling, tarlike ooze, as a pitch-black spear spiked out of the bubbling mass that was spreading out from the surrounding forest, intercepting the latest light arrow midair in an explosion that left the spear of darkness a melted mess that soon collapsed to the ground.

[color=39b54a]“Still crowing at the top of your lungs, I see, Rooster,”[/color] came a familiar voice, as a woman in a PLA uniform walked out of the murk of the night. Her appearance was drastically different from the last time they had met, but her voice and power were unmistakable regardless, crackling ebony ooze writhing around her feet in a bubbling carpet that was gradually spreading across more of the forest floor.

Golden eyes glared up at Ai Chen, glinting in the light of the fires on the nearby trees, as Lei Qingshe, The Snake of the Zodiac, finally arrived on the scene. In her hands, she held what appeared to be a standard-issue PLA assault rifle, a remarkably mundane weapon for a person like her.

A few things terrified Ai Chen. The scream she let out at coming face-to-face with Qingshe once more could be heard from high up in the air, so high up she was barely a dot, was a sign she had encountered one of those things. Panicking, she raised the rate of fire of her shots, upping the ante to shoot four, no, eight, no, sixteen arrows of light a second, all of them streaming towards Qingshe.

She was not completely blind. Only the extremely foolish or extremely strong - Even if it was hidden strength - defied her… requests and survived unscathed, much less turned the tables and continued to function as normal without fear of her reprisals.

And Qingshe was not extremely foolish.

So Ai Chen flew backward to keep as much distance as possible from Qingshe, all the while keeping up her rate of fire and her accuracy, even deigning to pull out a pair of binoculars from the wristband of her bikini-like outfit to further aid her already-good eyesight. 

Someone who had defied her and thrived despite that. That was worth fighting as hard to survive, maybe even run away should her tactics not work.

Slave camps are a dime a dozen nowadays in this world of new warfare. If she fled now and used excuses, she could [i]do this again[/i].

The Snake, for her part, stared the incoming barrage dead in the face, her expression impassive and unwavering right up until impact. Qingshe’s position was briefly engulfed into a blinding cacophony of explosions, heat, pressure and light washing over the area, as splashes of plasma sprayed across the carpet of ooze, dotting its crackling ebony mass like glittering stars in the sky. By all accounts, the woman had taken the attack head on, yet…

As the flash of destruction cleared away, the silhouette of someone standing in the steam became apparent.

Qingshe stood there, her body cast in the shadow of -and hands braced out against- a giant shield, primarily black and glowing green with accents of gold. Her Noble Arm, Ouroboros, having gone unseen by pretty much anyone since her defection from China around a year ago, now raised to defend her against the dire attack from above.

Yet, she did not seem to have come out unscathed.

Steam wafted off the Snake’s body, her PLA uniform frayed. The helmet had been blown clean off her head by the explosions and now lay a ruined, slagged mess, along with the rifle Qingshe had been holding, which lay at her feet in turn. Qingshe exhaled deeply, a hiss of steam escaping her lips, as angry red burns were now revealed to crawl up her cheeks and arms -the sleeves largely burned away, small flames even dancing across parts of her uniform.

With a grunt, Qingshe lowered her shield with a heavy [i]thunk[/i] into the ooze, leaning against it a bit, almost as if for support. She glanced over her shoulder at Marta’s position, where the nun had been shielded from the latest attack by the eruption from the ooze of an angled armor panel of steel, a wedge 16 inches thick that was now dripping with hot plasma.

[color=39b54a]“[i]Go… while you have the chance.[/i]”[/color] The Snake’s voice was husked, as if dry as a desert, likely the result of having all the moisture in the immediate vicinity of her flash-vaporized by the heat. [color=39b54a]“Help Nil… I’ll handle this one.”[/color]
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Meanwhile, high in the air, Ai Chen’s radio began to crackle with static, before a familiar voice slithered from it into her ears.

[color=39b54a]“[b][i]Ow.[/i] Is that any way to greet an old colleague, Chen?”[/b][/color] Qingshe’s voice came through clearly in the night air, as the Snake invaded the PLA airwaves to reach her opponent, despite the distance between them. Her words were almost playful, but her tone was flat and cold. [color=39b54a][b]“Why, I’d almost think you weren’t happy to see me.”[/b][/color]
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Elsewhere, Qingshe’s ooze was still spreading from her position, certainly slower than it could be, but not at a snail’s pace by any means, more a power walk in general. The blanket of writhing ebony curled around and underneath Marta, using the nun as a guide. Where she went, the ooze would follow and likely assist in some capacity, as golden, serpentine eyeballs began to boil from its mass to give it a better view of its surroundings.