Appearing closer to their other flank. Another Furcate was helping people. The boy from Mortari was there as well, acting like all was normal as he reached out and shoved a young man, before stepping back. The axe bit into crystal between him and the man. She swept her axe-hand sideways, scraping it against the crystal, and the boy scampered up the side of it, before finding a grip on her wrist.

The Titan disappeared—still trying to find a weakness, making it as hard as possible for them to pin her down or make anything stick. A mad dog, biting at anything and everything that she could.

This reappearance didn’t target them, though. It didn’t target the vital mining or explosives equipment, and it didn’t target the civilians.

The portal. Their lifeline. The Titan appeared beside it, and Scribe rammed it with a spike of crystal. Tristan improvised a rushed attack, which only glanced off the Titan.

The portal was in the Titan’s arm’s reach. Through it, she could see the silhouettes and shadows of their reinforcements.

Even beyond that… without that portal, they didn’t have enough access to their powers. Not down here, in this alien landscape.

She made a decision in the spur of the moment. A massive well of low gravity high above them.

And then a series of lesser spikes of anti-gravity. Aimed at civilian clusters, at her teammates. At Sveta and the boy from Mortari. At Tristan.

To fling them—the forty or so people she’d been able to reach—up. Into a waiting cushion of low gravity, closer to the clouds than to the ground.

The crack in reality was far below them, surrounded by toppled buildings coated in snow.

People screamed. Moonsong didn’t. The entirety of her focus was on the Titan below them, making sure she was keeping people aloft, and keeping her focus.

Because her focus was the only thing that kept them from plummeting to their deaths.

She did what she could to equalize them, so they were all roughly level with one another as they ‘fell’, dropping an inch a second, the wind whipping around them.

The fissure was beneath them, the hole in reality. So long as they were up here, they had powers. But there were vulnerable people down there, and the moment her concentration broke—

“Tribute!” Riveting called out.

“What do you need!?” he called back.

“Mental speed! I have an idea!”

“Do it!” Moonsong called out.

Snow whipped all around them, and the white of snow turned dark as a shadow fell over them.

“Tribute! Rivet! Harbinger!” Moonsong called out, barely pausing between the names, as she saw who the Titan was poised to strike, falling in the low gravity, twisting to bring the axe around. Moonsong considered using her power to drop them, to create a pocket of higher gravity, to fling them down, or fling them up, but she didn’t trust her concentration. Not when forty lives hung in the balance.