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Angels Always Win

Angelina rushed to our sides, grabbing our wrists and pulling us behind her as she leapt out the window and rocketed into the sky. I barely managed to grab my knapsack before being whisked away alongside her. With the wind rushing past, I felt my flight muscles warm up and twitch into action, a humming engine roaring to life in my chest. Heidi, for her part, clung to Angelina, no wings extending from her own rusty Imago.

I looked behind us. Ecto still stared dumbfounded through the window for a few moments before catching himself and sending E1-Messenger after us. In moments, the swarm of pigeons had ballooned to more than ten thousand strong, a growing cloud of black claws and feathers. They filled the sky, blocking out the city lights and replacing them with the glimmer of their crimson eyes, trained on us.

“They’re following,” said Angelina. “I’m going to need to let go of your hand, Quinn. Don’t fall.”

“Okay!” I shouted above the din. She let go. I dropped a few metres before stabilizing and following in her wake. Though still carrying Heidi, if Angelina was encumbered at all, she didn’t show it. She swooped back to fly alongside me. Her wingbeats were deafening, two-metre wings thundering like a jet engine. I was thankful yet again for the muffling provided by my Imago.

“You’re flying... passably,” she shouted over the din, giving me a thumbs-up with two of her arms. “We have to lose them before we can land at Sanctuary 73. That means we’re going to split them up.” She gave Heidi a nudge. “You good to fly now?”

Heidi nodded. “Ready to drop.”

“Go for it.” Heidi let go of Angelina and plummeted. A segment of the cloud behind us broke off to follow her. Good to fly, she’d said... but she didn’t have wings. Angelina seemed to read my mind but only chuckled. “Just watch.”

Heidi kept falling, doing a full flip. No wings to be found. And she was wearing a hoodie anyways, which surely would get in the way if any wings were there in the first place. The birds on her tail surged forward, closing in on her. But then a pair of gleaming shields snapped out through slits in the back of her sweatshirt. A pair of wings unfolded behind them, slowly humming to life.

“I’m going to clean these up. Try not to die on tthe way home.” Angelina zipped forward, the turbulence in her wake sending me into a spin once or twice before stabilizing again. She swooped down in a dizzying arc, spinning and slicing through the cloud of birds around Heidi with ease. In the brief moments when she wasn’t spinning, I caught the gleam of daggers in her four hands. Behind her, another huge swarm of pigeons flew, though unable to match her speed they mostly joined the throng tailing Heidi.

Speaking of Heidi, she was only flying slowly, scarcely faster than the pigeons on her tail. But her flight was far from aimless; she weaved back and forth, guiding her pursuers into clumps and allowing Angelina plenty of room to zip around her and cut them down with her greater agility.

My thoughts were interrupted by a pigeon nipping at my foot. Right. Though a sizeable portion of our pursuers had gone after Heidi and Angelina, a few hundred were still on my tail. I kept flying in the general direction of Sanctuary 73 to give myself time to think. Even with Angelina’s speed, she wouldn’t be done cleaning up for quite a while. Already, I felt my wing muscles tiring. I had to keep moving, at least. They kept nipping at my feet. I was a little bit faster than them, at least, but it would take hours to lose them that way. I needed to move even faster. But how could I move faster than I already was? “How fast are they moving?” I asked Vespa.

“They are moving at seventeen point five one three metres per second.”

In that case, there was at least one way to outspeed them. I tilted upward, straining with all my might towards the clouds high above. “Vespa, how, uh, strong is this carapace?”

“What are you planning?”

“Insects are pretty tough, right?” My muscles were being pushed to their absolute limit. Still holding my wingbeats steady for a bit longer. I couldn’t imagine how tiring it’d be for Angelina to swoop and dive and spin like she had.

“Quinn—”

My wings stopped. For a moment I floated in the air, before gravity took its course and sent me hurtling towards the ground. The cloud of pigeons tipped down after me. Everything around me was a blur. The air racing past would have crushed my human arms and legs. Even in this armoured body, I needed to curl up into a ball. Though I zipped past them, my compound eyes registered the tops of the skyscrapers. Wait. The sounds of city traffic. Wait for it... now! My wings flew open, not to stop me, but to slow my descent just enough. I bounced off the ground hard once and uncurled in the air. My wings flew open, catching me just above the streets and letting me make my way just above the tops of the cars. My pursuers weren’t so lucky, brittle crystalline bodies shattering against the asphalt.

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“You did not kill yourself. Very impressive.”

“Not now, Vespa.” This had been a good idea, but it wasn’t over yet. Maybe a dozen or so were still on my tail. I weaved through the traffic lights and signs, keeping low and doing my best to avoid clipping my wings on the tangle of poles and wires above the streets. A few times, I came dangerously close to doing so; I had a feeling my Imago was still looking out for itself. With my slight edge in speed, rounding enough corners was enough to lose them in just a few minutes, letting me drop down in an alley and quickly transform back.

“I wonder how many people saw you.”

I hadn’t even thought about that. Between all the flashing lights and traffic... “Let’s just hope nobody did. But what was the worst that could happen.” Now back in human form, I walked along the streets, blending in as best as I could among the crowds. I was chilly out. I wished I had a jacket or something; instead, I was wearing the same t-shirt and jeans that I’d been wearing since yesterday. My whole body ached again. I hoped that wouldn’t be a pattern.

Sanctuary 73 was still open. Sarah and Nep sat at the bar, chatting idly over drinks. Nep nodded as I entered the building, while Sarah rushed to my side. “You made it back,” she said, crushing me in a hug. I was too tired to push her away. “You’re so cold. Why didn’t you change into something warmer?”

“I could’ve done that?” That reminded me. “How much control do I even have over my clothes when I transform back?” I asked.

Nep looked up “The clothing that reforms is restricted to the same material present when you enter your Imago. But you can rearrange it. Or incorporate some... more exotic materials into them, if you practice. And you do need to practice. Or you can end up with some... embarrassing situations.”

“Indeed.” Sarah removed her jacket. Strings of membrane and flesh snapped as she peeled it off and put it over my shoulders. I recoiled at first, but it was warm. The texture was leathery and not at all slimy. It was made from her Imago, though, as could be seen from the organic interior that moved and breathed. Sarah smiled. “But when it works, it works wonderfully. You can keep the jacket, by the way. I don’t want you getting cold.”

“I... thanks. It’s certainly comfortable.” I understood so little. So many questions to ask. But first... “Did—”

“Angelina and Heidi returned slightly before you,” said Nep.

Sarah nodded. “But Angelina went out again to make sure that you were okay. I’ll let her know. Don’t worry about anything. Are you hungry? There are leftovers upstairs in the fridge.”

“I’m... I’m fine, thanks. Just tired.” Questions could wait. I headed up through the back door, up the stairs to my new room. It felt weird to think of it that way, but that was what it was. My room. The bag felt heavy on my shoulders. I set it down next to the mattress, tossing Sarah’s jacket alongside it. The shelves were dusty, but I could clean them later. For now, I took out my laptop and plugged it in, pulled out the first of the mementos I’d taken, setting it up on a shelf that seemed clean enough. A portrait of mom and dad and myself, smiling. I’d managed to reclaim that, at least. A small victory, but a victory nonetheless. And that would have to be enough for tonight.