Máire twirled a sword languidly in one hand, stepping through piles of dismembered flesh-turned metal. She’d seen their kind too many times. People turning themselves into weapons… it was as disgusting as it ever was. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in a pool of oil and blood, lingering on it only briefly before smearing it away with her foot. 

There were still battles waging elsewhere in the settlement. If Silver Fang were here, she would likely be where the fighting was thickest. She would look for the heart of the violence, where people were most in danger. Assuming she was still here, of course. 

Máire’s sword vanished into silver dust, disappearing back beneath her skin as she scanned the nearby buildings for a decent vantage point to spot her quarry from. They were all short, barely more than a couple stories tall. Honestly, it almost reminded her of-





D̴̡̡̢͈͖͇̖̩̳͈̼̺̞̻͔̟͆̓͛̀̏̀͆̔̋̑ǫ̷̛̠͎̖̜̟̮̤͎̙̩̖̱̩̬̲̬̥̭͓̯̱̪̤͓̝̰͚͇̌̈́̋͐͑̓̾̒̍͑̿̃͂̍̑͂̏͐̐̔͝͝n̷̡̧̧̨̝̼̦̟̫͍͇̖̺̼̟̲͉̟̰̜͉̹̞̱͔͑̃́̌̊̀͐̈́͑͜͝ͅͅͅ'̶̛̼̮͍̰̟̘̮̤͖̱̥̥͈̖̲͗̽̐̑̏́̿͆̈̓̌́̍̋̓̂͜͝͝t̴̢̧̟̝̙̣̟̗̲̞͇͍̖͇̮̠̪̙̦̎͑̎̌͌̈́͗̈́̽̆̑̆̓͂̕͜.̶̨̢̥̱̼̰͖̙̫̘͊͋̆̋́͊̓͠͝





A flash of silver rocketed skyward at the corner of her vision, drawing her gaze like a motion camera. Bayushi? Had to be. One of Máire’s blades manifested and rocketed forward, her arm trailing behind as it carried her in its wake.