I took cover along the side of a pipe. Water and steam gouted out of multiple places in the filtration system. The cover was demolished, and my teammates gone. Water rained down from above, cold enough to make my skin contract, while steam rose from above.

My forcefield took some time to return. I moved slightly away from the tank I was using for cover as it did.

I had a view from the inside of the multiple heads, multiple limbs, legs. There were naked breasts and segments that aped the length of unclothed torso, waist, and hip.

The expressions on the faces were calm, solemn. They had hair—all hair as long as my own, even though I knew that all but one head of hair had been cut short during my tenure in the hospital.

Grapnel had fired up along the side of the building, and Sveta had hauled some people up, using the harpoons as holds. Rain, Chastity, and Fume Hood were perched on top of a pipe. Samuel was a bit lower. Wide as it was, a slip could lead to a dangerous fall. At least for Fume Hood.

Capricorn was attempting to make more cover, I saw, but the lights drew attention. Some of that attention took the form of shots from thralls who were no longer blinded by the choking smoke. More importantly, that glowing sword was pointed again.

I took flight. The Wretch was in plain view for anyone who took the time to look. I couldn’t afford to dwell on it, so I let it fall to the back of my mind, as a dim awareness of regrettable fact.

The left-hand wing of the winged suit extended, sweeping forward. A wall of what seemed like forcefields, extending between the group and their path of retreat. Extending in my way, so that I crashed into it, hard enough that the Wretch was canceled.

The wing-wall remained intact after I collided with it. I tried to find a way around, only to have a shot from a tinker’s cannon pass within arm’s reach while the Wretch was still offline.

I backed off. Sustaining big hits like I had killed the Wretch’s stamina, made delays longer for a while after. I had to trust they had things handled. They had Wardens with them.

Panels of the wing faded out, just in time for the laser to fire into the gap. Coordinated effort: cut them off, fire.

Forcefields were raised—I saw Sarah’s purple one, two others. They didn’t last three seconds. The sword’s beam cut a furrow into the ground, sliced into the wall, and caused a fifth of the lighting in the room to go dark as it shredded wiring.

In the wake of it, I could only make out Stonewall and Caryatid. Everyone else had fled.