She grabbed someone or something on the other side and yanked. They collided with the edge of the opening door, which promptly slammed. It was only a moment later, and after seeing Sveta’s expression, that I remembered the height that the usual doorknob was at, and what she might have grabbed.

The guards shot out the hinges, and at that point, there was no keeping the door up. I flew to intercept, and as I saw their movements as they turned to track me, I shifted course, flying up. With the Wretch active, I hit the ceiling just above the door, where the light was.

We still have pursuers from behind.

“We’ve got two red lines from the compass!” Capricorn called out.

Red line?

I flew back and away, so I’d have a second to think. I was in the middle of evasive maneuvers when a bullet hit the Wretch.

Changing course, I put myself close to the building, so the overhang above the door would provide some cover from the shooter.

They shot elsewhere.

“Stop shooting my body!” Sveta called out, arms up in front of her face.

I flew straight down. Wretch out, flat out, all out. A full speed descent, a downward swipe of the Wretch aimed at the concrete pad that the building was seated on.

The pad shattered. People all around me stumbled—shadowy silhouettes in more shadow.

I swung backhanded, aiming a punch with no enhanced strength active, but with my aura going from zero to ten.

A hand deflected my swing. The woman stepped in close, with an underhanded punch. The first hit my breastplate. The second, same hand, hit my side, where the breastplate didn’t protect me.

People were cowering, backing up, but this person didn’t flinch.

And the one with the gun wasn’t either. They brought their weapon around, aimed at my head.

I ducked right, relying on flight to keep me moving, when otherwise it would have been me landing on my side. At the same instant, Sveta had a grip on the gunman and pulled them away, hauling back on the torso, not the gun-arm. And, still also in the same moment, they fired.

With me moving one way, and Sveta pulling the gunman the other way, the bullet still clipped the edge of my mask just by the left eyehole. My head was twisted to the left, pain singing in my neck in a way that promised I’d ache tomorrow.

And the martial artist woman in the prison guard uniform was after me. Her body was a blur of grays and blacks against a black background, and I barely saw her leg come around. A kick aimed at my neck, while I was still reeling.

Teacher thrall, I realized. I brought the Wretch out. She kicked the Wretch, and the Wretch might have been lashing out or growing out in her direction, because I saw and felt her leg break.