Rare has been humiliated on the grandest stage possible.
Their one plan to demotivate the New Slayers and buy time until their Anti-Mage Coalition can arrive... backfired in a most spectacular fashion. Just like their preposterous theory about my time on Earth being a case of paramnesia, the idea that my dead presence would satiate the fury of the grand army was terrible and worthless.
I don’t blame them, though. Being wrong is a very sad thing indeed. It’s even sadder in situations like these, where being wrong may very well result in the deaths of everyone I care about on all of Mystix.
The magical barrier in the canyon before us is starting to break. The New Slayers are attacking it en masse with every ranged attack in their arsenal, and once it breaks, those attacks will fly straight into us.
“We... need to retreat,” Rare says. “Now.”
“Where?” Malia asks. “What’s the point anymore?”
“We can still survive if we, uh, go back into the catacombs. We can fight in the arena of our choosing.”
“They have at least a hundred winged soldiers. We won’t make it down this hill before the barrier breaks, and we won’t be fast enough to avoid that swarm. Plus, they probably have at least a thousand [Toxins] waiting down there to begin with.”
“No matter,” they say with a resounding shaking of their head. “No matter at all. We will overcome all of that. We must overcome it, because if not—“
Malia and Rare turn their heads away and move in the same direction (I would have joined them except that I have the ability to see fully around me at all times anyway).
“I said stop. This party’s over.”
Mestopholees...? What is she saying?
And why is she holding a thunder whip?
Rare takes one look at Queen Mestopholees. Their eyes narrow, but then collapse in anguish. “Miss M... You couldn’t...”
She looks me straight in the eyes (or rather the place where my eyes would be were I living) and winks, frowning.
“What is the meaning of this?” I ask.
“I’ve told you before that I wanted redemption,” she tells me. “That I’ve committed unforgivable sins and that bringing you to Rare would only make things worse. Well, I was right. I can’t redeem myself like this.”
“You’re redeemed in my eyes,” I say.
“No, I’m not. I’m just as bad as Malia and Rare. I may have my powers and my boobs back, but I’m just as much a petulant rodent as I was when we first met. There’s only one thing now I can do to save you.”
“Miss M, no!” Rare shouts.
But before they can act, Mestopholees cracks her thunder whip and wraps it around Rare’s leg. She whips again and Rare’s flying through the air so fast I can hardly see them before they’ve disappeared into the sky.
Malia takes a step back, but then draws her weapons. A sword in one hand, and a bow in the other. She’s going to use the one-handed bow technique—
But Mestopholees doesn’t even attempt to engage her. Instead, she looks at the ground below us, grimaces, and raises her whip.
“NO!” I scream.
Mestopholees strikes the cliff with a mighty blow. The sound ripples throughout all of North Spire. And then the whole thng crumbles apart.
Not just our side, but the Slayers’ cliffs as well. The barrier absorbs the attack and then mirrors it back on the other side.
The whole scene goes into chaos as thousands of people, myself included, tumble into the canyon below—
My eyes pop open.
I can feel my skin again.
I can feel Francis’s head on my shoulder. His elbow gently resting against my thigh.
And I can feel my heart pulsing at double its normal speed.
Still on the train. Still safe and sound in California.
But Mystix is a whole different story.