Nothing. No pain.

Arelia opened her eyes. She patted her chest, confused. No blood. No torn metal on her flightsuit. She looked at Laredo, who looked as confused as she felt. He braced himself on the window, legs wide to stabilize his stance.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Three laughed and jumped onto the desk in one long leap. He landed in a squat, long arms draping to the floor. “But I think it’s time for this little farce to end.”

Laredo turned to him, brows furrowed, and demanded, “What is this?”

“Um… betrayal, I guess. See, Laredo, it wasn’t you everyone approved of. It wasn’t your plan that was so brilliant the Asteri above turned their eyes away. It was ours.”

“You!” Laredo spun the gun on Three.

Three’s hand lashed out, too fast for Arelia to catch. Laredo’s gun spun across the floor and knocked into the corner. “Not me, honestly. I’m just a pawn.”

“What do you want?” Laredo snarled. “Money? Power? …Women? I’ll give it to you. Just… don’t interfere!”

Three put his hands up. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m a pawn. I can’t stop this, Laredo. This comes from on high.”

“What do they want?” Spittle flew. The words lashed from his lips, a weapon.

“Chaos. Destruction. The unwinding of this world.” Three gestured at the scenery beyond their window. “In a word, war.”

Laredo blinked, anger wiped by confusion for a beat. “Why?”

Three smiled. As though he were mocking himself, he said, “What the Asteri wish, we mortals can but wonder. But I’ll tell you this: they don’t want you to succeed. They want you to fall. For this Block to spiral to madness, without any power to control it. What the Asteri want, the heavens desire too. This is out of your control.”

“They aren’t gods!” Arelia shouted, without thinking about whose words she repeated.

Three shrugged. “They might as well be.”

Metal glared outside the window. Smoke. Arelia whirled as a bullet exploded against the window. Glass shattered, spraying over the carpet. Laredo ran into the room, away from the sudden rush of sucking wind.

“Thank you for your service!” Three shouted over the rush. He threw a mocking salute as he backed toward the gaping hole where a window had been. One foot landed on the edge, crushing broken glass beneath it. Three pushed off and dropped backward into the void.

Another explosion rocked the building. Arelia tripped and fell against the desk, barely able to hold herself upright. By the window, Laredo barely kept his feet, falling toward the void.

“Father!” Arelia shouted.

At the last second, he threw his shoulder against the window and held himself up with the glass. His suit flapped in the breeze, his tie a kite.

She ran to him. There was no thought. She couldn’t explain it. Instinct, emotion, and reason all clashed inside her.

He’s my father!

He killed mother! He tried to kill me.

I can’t save him. He’ll kill me.

I have to save him. He’s my father. He’s all the family I have left.

He’s not family. Not anymore.

Her hand closed around his neck. She dragged him toward the hole, not knowing if it was to kill him or save him.

Wild eyes stared into hers from inches away. Not human, but animal. Fear, anger, disgust, hatred, fear, loss, over and over, chasing each other down. She stared back, not sure what face to make. This isn’t father. This is a cornered rat.

The floor quaked. Steady footprints caught her ear. Laredo whipped around, and she turned a second later.

Sasha sprinted at her. Deadly steel shone, a dagger pointed at her father’s heart.

She grabbed her father and threw herself off the tower.

Clouds above. Asphalt below. Brilliant colors between, where Three rode a parachute to the ground. Arelia plunged. Windows became a blur of reflection, herself a gold-and-white blaze falling past. A meteorite, on a collision course with the planet.

Airfoils spring from her shoulders. Her jet roared to life. It strained under her and Laredo’s combined weight, then slowly buoyed her up.

A hand closed around her ankle and yanked her down. Arelia screamed, startled. The additional weight almost sent her tumbling, except for the weight of her father to balance it. The jet screamed, then gave out.

For a few heartstopping moments, she fell. The jet cut back on, and she jerked to a stop, bobbing in place. Her body hung horizontal, Laredo weighing her arms down, Sasha on her ankles. Helpless, unable to steer, she sped down the street.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Arelia turned over her shoulder. Sasha stared back, resolute. As she watched, he gestured, and the dagger in his other hand vanished. He reached for her leg.

“No!” she shouted. She flinched away from his reach. His swipe missed, silver hand falling low of the mark.

Impassive, Sasha reached again.

Laredo hung limply in her grasp, stunned. Glazed eyes stared at the battle below. Arelia followed his gaze and realized what he had: he lost. The Block had driven off the Regis Group. Black forms retreated from what remained of the white-suited Regis men. Seirios had called off its men. Without their support, what had been a losing battle became a massacre. Regis Group turned and ran, leaving their construction equipment behind. But where did they run to? Their tower crumbled before their eyes. Their master was powerless.

Another weight slammed into her ankles. Arelia screamed as she dropped, twisting toward the caught leg, now much heavier than the rest of her. The jet spat, unable to hold this much weight. They sank, no longer speeding ahead but falling. As she fell, she spun, weighted off-balance by her heavy leg. Faster and faster, until her vision blurred, until Laredo threatened to fly out of her grasp. She glanced down at Laredo, then let go with her opposite hand and threw it out to stabilize herself. The spin slowed, but didn’t stop, and she continued to drop.

“Let go!” she shouted, glaring down at her ankle.

Two identical faces stared back. Seven-A held on to Sasha’s waist, knuckles white. His longsword was clasped against Sasha, useless. Arelia shook herself back and forth, but Sasha gripped her grimly, unwilling to let go. They hurtled toward the ground, plunging helplessly. Her jet couldn’t hold them up. The airfoils were useless without forward power. Arelia kicked again, harder this time, and scraped her foot down her leg, desperate to shake Sasha off. “We’re all going to die! Let go!”

Sasha met her eyes. He glanced at Seven-A, then at Laredo. His silver arm hung limp against his body. A serene expression passed over his face, and he opened his hand.

For a second, he hung in the air. Arelia stared at him, abruptly realizing what she’d asked. “No—Sasha, hold on!”

He smiled, tipping backward. Seven-A let go of him and lunged for her ankle. Too late. He and Seven-A tumbled toward the ground, identical bodies blurring into one another until she couldn’t tell which was which. Arelia stared after them, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. They’re going to die. Sasha, Sasha is going to—

Laredo twisted in her grasp, dragging her back to reality. He bucked against her hold. Eyes flashing, lips lifted to bare his teeth, he snarled, “No!”

“Father, stop! I can’t hold on!” Arelia tried to grab him with her other hand, but he fought so wildly she had to use it to counter his swinging or else stall and plunge anyways. “Stop!”

“Not—this filthy hand!” He yanked his hand free of hers.

Arelia froze. Instinctively, she retracted her hand to her chest. The metal ached against her hand, as cold as ice.

Her father fell away. Spittle tracing after him, eyes wide with madness, a sickening, satisfied grin spread over his lips.

Her eyes flew open. No! Arelia dove after him. “Father!”

It was only a moment’s hesitation, but a moment too long. Laredo was too far below her, falling too fast. Asphalt rushed up until it was the only thing she could see, asphalt and Laredo, eyes bloodshot, teeth bared, nostrils flared. His lips moved. The wind snatched his words away, but she could read them on his lips. Filth.

Red lights in her viewscreen. Her flightsuit took over and pulled up. Mere feet above the pavement, she pulled out of her dive. Sparks flew where her knees dragged the ground, and then she darted back into the air, unharmed aside from a scraped flightsuit.

A wet, burst sound, like a smashed watermelon. Arelia flinched. She covered her face, then slowly, slowly, forced herself to look. In death, a horrible mask of hatred stared back at Arelia, dead eyes just as wide, lips still bared. Blood poured out, staining the pavement.

Arelia screamed. She lunged down and landed beside her father, took his hand, stared at his face. Blood burst beneath him. The hand she held was limp, still warm but cooling. Memories flooded back. Quiet breakfasts. Passing the butter while the city trundled along below. A hand helping her up when she fell off her bike and scraped her knees, so warm and big that she forgot her pain for a moment. A low voice rumbling against her back as his fingers traced the words in the book, as she wished time could stop so her father could read to her forever.

She screamed. She couldn’t hold it in. It burst out of her, on and on, one scream dying only to be replaced by the next. Tears streaked down her face. Anger, frustration, grief, twisted around her heart and dug their thorns in deep. She bowed her head, swallowing her sobs until they burst out, until she blubbered, unable to stop any of it, the snot rolling down her face, the tears dripping from her eyes. I could have saved him. Just a little faster. Just a little further. If only. If only I reached out faster—!

Abruptly, she looked up. Her face was wet, but no more tears rolled from her eyes. She kicked off the ground and took to the air. If Sasha was dead, she didn’t have the heart to find him. Any more bodies of those she cared about, and she would stop, unable to move ever again. Instead, she ran away, engine burning so hot it ached through her armor, wind whipping past her visor, whole body streamlined against the force of the flight, driven on by her aching heart.

In seconds, the battle rose before her. Streetpunks chased the remnants of the Regis Group, firing salvos at their feet and laughing when they ran. Bodies laid strewn across the street. Her eyes blurred over them, refusing to take them in. Later. Another time. Not now.

Now, she had business to finish.

Arelia slammed down in front of Naemi and Charl’s car. Still as a statue, she stared it down, daring them to hit her.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Charl stood on the brakes. The car swerved to a stop, nose inches from Arelia’s chest.

She felt nothing. Arelia turned her head up, slowly, and met Naemi in the eyes. “It’s over.”

“Tell that to the Regis Group,” Naemi grumbled.

“It’s over.”

Naemi pursed her lips, then climbed out the window, megaphone to her lips. “Alright boys, rein it in! Rein it in!”

Reluctantly, the streetpunks lowered their guns and drifted to a halt. Puzzled heads poked out of driver’s seats, frowning back at Naemi. Behind the streetpunks, the other groups slowly drew to a halt. Mad Ag raised a hand, cutting off the machine gun.

Arelia blasted into the sky, twisting. Smoke twined after her, a white pillar. Regis men stopped and turned, drawn to the sound and the smoke, startled by the sudden silence. She turned to face them, slowly lowering herself to the hood of Naemi’s car.

“Laredo is dead. Salute your new leader.”

One man lowered his head. Then another. A third. White rippled as the men bowed to Arelia.

She gazed down on them, numb. There was no excitement. No satisfaction. She had obtained her wish, but it felt empty.

“So uh, is this you surrendering, or…?” Naemi asked, fiddling with the megaphone.

Arelia turned to Naemi. For a moment, Naemi thought her eyes looked as blank as Sasha’s. Then a glimmer of something materialized, relief, or maybe shame, and she nodded. “We—Regis Group surrenders. The Block belongs to you.”

She hopped off the hood and walked away. White suits formed up around her.

In the distance, with a great rush of concrete dust and screaming steel, Regis Tower collapsed.