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"Fire! Fire! Fire! Fucking fire!"
This is our last dance
Brash smiled.
This is our last dance.
And grew big. Big. Big. Bigger.
This is ourselves.
And best of all.
Under pressure.
He shone.
Under Pressure
Like gold.
Pressure
***
Merton's scream came at the same time as the beam struck the glowing, shining figure. It struck, then rebounded. Reflected. Shot back up into the Hellcannon, like it had struck a mirror. The hellcannon and the Warsphere shuddered with the impact. Armor plate rippled. But it did not explode. Instead, spines and spikes and snarling, crackling fissures in reality appeared. The Warsphere slewed to the side as it was sucked inwards, crumpling like a piece of tissue paper. But before the hellcannon could suck itself to the Abyss, the internal components failed. Instead of a complete transfer, the Warsphere merely floated there.
Harmless to Earth.
But it wasn't dead.
Though everyone aboard likely now wished they were.
And Merton hung his head, tears streaming from his face.
Floating.
With the only sound being the soft click click click of a single finger snapping.
TO BE CONTINUED
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