In her daze, trying to make sense of things, Colt saw Kitchen Sink try to throw something. Lookout’s claw-on-a-tail reached out to catch it, but that left her blind for Nailbiter to attack. Damsel threw herself at Nailbiter’s real body, to throw off her trajectory.

Love Lost wheeled around, striking out with her whips, hitting empty air, then leaped backward, riggings on her legs snapping out as they fired like gun chambers, giving her a slight boost. Her feet scraped against the wall, and she ran on the surface for five running steps.

She bounded down, toward Damsel, Nailbiter, and Lookout.

Everyone had something they were doing. Except Colt…

…And Flor, the creepy little girl with the black dress decorated in white lace. The girl smiled, showing a lot of small white teeth. She limped with every step.

“You shot my brother,” the girl’s voice was quiet. “Now if I do something extra horrible to you, they won’t blame me. It’s great. Thank you for shooting Samuel.”

Colt backed away as the girl advanced. In the background, it looked like Love Lost was winning, propelling herself from Nailbiter’s claws to strike Damsel in the air.

The girl bolted forward. Even with the limp, she was quick.

Colt turned to run. If that girl wanted in close, then Colt wanted away.

She got three steps before she was caught. In the confusion and daze, she thought it was two people. Two different arms.

Imp.

No.

The arms thrust her back in the direction of the child. She slipped on ice and skidded to a stop. Where one of her gloves had ridden up, her hand had scraped on the hard ground.

Colt reached for something—anything she could do. A plea—she had no ideas. An anything?

She floundered, like she was in water and there was only water so disturbed and black that she couldn’t find any way up or out.

There were stars in that water, and it wasn’t the water churning, but sleek forms within it.

As the forms came nearer, they welled up in her vision. Less like a person walking toward her, and more like a planet colliding with her own.

That form had a mouth, and that mouth yawned open wide, until it encapsulated her vision, and everything in every direction was this thing. She moved her focus around, struggled, fought—but it was like being in quicksand.

She saw the heart of the thing. She saw the small star of energy and how it was broken up into a thousand facets that were somehow all still aligned, even as the thing came to pieces.

And that star, that pit at the very belly of this thing, it burned so hot and so bright it began to eat at her consciousness. Even the detachment she felt wasn’t any insulation against the consuming light.