The forcefield collapsed. Screams filled Tora's ears. The Shadowlings swarmed, smothering them in a suffocating wave of freezing air. So much pain – the psychological pain was far worse than any physical pain she could imagine. Her broken, useless arm didn't bother her, nor did that raging headache. All of Carlos and Damien's worst nightmares came to life, and she on the receiving end of the sickening spell.

Die, demon child, die!

Not worth anything. People will literally know nothing if I died. They wouldn't even see me. I'm worthless, worthless...

We could build a new world together, Lil. Just you and me. Trust me. Everyone has the capacity to love and trust; they just need the right environment to bloom.

Maraduc.

The realisation that she would see more of those close to her heart die because of her incompetence hit her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Lilitha eased closer and closer to the surface of Tora's consciousness, letting her taste more of the promised powers.

Their screams weakened.

Tora's hand shot out. A forcefield enclosed around the nearest demon, encapsulating it in the invisible wall. It took the spherical shape, straining against the barrier. The forcefield shrank until it was the size of a fist, containing pitch-black smoke.

Tora opened her mouth. The Shadowling slipped in. It dispelled on hitting the back of her throat.

Energy flooded through her body, much like the golden liquid from the beginning.

Her flesh melted over her skin. Warmth swept over her, bathing her pain and easing her terror. After a brief period of serenity, strength returned to her muscles. Her eyes opened. The world was crisp and clear, the ravage all too obvious. The stink of fear and smoke reached her nose, with a hint of blood – probably hers.

Her tail swished. She had never felt better.

Her arm shot out, catching the head of the next Shadowling. Before it could let out a rattle of panic, she'd swallowed it, savouring the energy it provided. She licked her lips. The deliciousness of these meals had long been forgotten until now.

Not too far from her, Cimerus did the same, inhaling the last Shadowling. He smacked his lips before turning to his Shifter form, the wounds from his previous fight disappearing. Sweat-drenched blonde hair dried, becoming slicked-back against his skull. A grin stretched across his black leathery face.

"Welcome b—"

He was cut off when she jumped for his throat.

He leapt out of her reach, pupils fixed on her. She followed with a furious set of wild swipes aimed for his face. He propelled himself backwards on powerful lean legs. He closed the distance between them on landing.

They clashed, just once, in mid-air. Tora landed on all fours, her claws digging into the ground and leaving thick lines in the concrete as she slid. Blood crusted at her fingertips. A snarl revealed jagged yellow teeth. Golden eyes narrowed.

Cimerus landed in a similar fashion, but with less grace. A gash stretched from his shoulder down his upper arm. Thick blood oozed out.

Tora kept her eyes on him, her tail swishing. Careful feet paced the ground with deliberate steps. The two demons circled each other, each waiting for the other to strike.

Cimerus struck first this time round. Tora tried to swerve to get round the back. His teeth caught her by her neck. Her balance tipped over; her legs slid from beneath her. They crashed to the floor, upending one of the half-melted metal bins.

Tora's legs kicked out. One connected with Cimerus's stomach, making him double over. They scrabbled in the rubble. A second kick, aimed as high behind her body as she could, hit the bottom of his ribs. Air tore out of his lungs in a grunt. She yanked her head free. Skin and flesh parted. She screeched, twisting onto her back. Strong hands clamped onto her shoulders, the claws digging into her skin.

She sank her teeth into the nearest wrist. He howled. Viscous blood poured into her mouth, delicious and repugnant at the same time. His mouth aimed for her face. She blocked it with her elbow and screamed when her bones cracked under the strength of his jaws. She kicked again, leaving long, deep scores down the length of his legs. Fury burned in his golden eyes.

They rolled over; she was on top. She scuttled backwards when he snapped at her. Closing her jaws around his calf, she flung her head left and right. Her teeth sunk further into the flesh, causing more blood to spurt out. Adrenaline pumped through her; strength poured into her muscles. Sinews tore in her mouth. Bone splintered into shards.

His face contorted in hatred. Saliva dripped along the angle of his jaw. Vertical slits of pupils glared at her.

Cimerus's tail cracked across her face like a whip. She flinched. Her grip loosened for a fleeting second.

The next second stars exploded all over her world. She tumbled over and over. Crashing squarely into a wall, she could barely catch her breath before loose bodies showered on her. Dust filled her lungs, making her cough. Broken bricks bounced off her back. She spat out broken bits of teeth and pushed herself up, ignoring the twinges of pain down her back. She kept one eye on Cimerus, who got up gingerly, his limbs trembling. Her other eye remained blinded.

Her limbs lengthened. At least two other pairs sprouted from her back, remaining neatly tucked along her spine. Her face bubbled and smoothed, becoming devoid of facial features and cotton white. She scuttled forward like a spider. Cimerus's every tremble and shiver was clear as day.

She covered the distance within a second; one of her limbs from her back lengthened. It shot like a javelin straight at the other demon. The tip gleamed, harder than diamonds. There was no time for him to shift and no space for him to run.

The air whistled.

The deadly tip embedded into the ground where he was moments before. A tiny figure, no larger than a human hand, dashed from the shadows. It moved so quickly no other creatures could have seen it except for Spectres. Tora's morphed eyes trained on the Specktacle zipping to and fro in a fervent attempt to lose her. Specktacles might be difficult to catch, but it wasn't an impossible feat.

Tora didn't give Cimerus time to recover his breath. She chased him, long legs tapping almost without a sound on the rubble. Through the monochromic surrounding, his movement was too obvious. Others would have seen nothing more than a shimmer of silvery green and blue before it blinked into nothing, but Tora could see the lithe limbs, delicate flowing hair, and crystalline wings – wings that she took off with a swipe of her limb.

The Specktacle spiralled and bounced along the platform. The limb Tora used to spear Cimerus smoked. The tip dropped off, sizzling, and landed on the floor with a splat. She ignored it. Specktacle poison was a small side effect.

He looked pitifully fragile, slender limbs bent at awkward angles in the semi-darkness. His long tresses fanned over his tiny face – but Tora knew it was all just an appearance. Specktacles' innocent exterior and rainbow colours caused many a naïve predator's downfall. The sight made Tora grin behind that blank mask, however. Piricca would have loved to see a Specktacle like this.

Her spare arms elongated and aimed towards Cimerus's fallen form. Three spikes would render nothing but tatters left.

She shot backwards out of the way. Where she stood previously was engulfed by a jet of white-hot fire. She rattled in agony. Her back limbs, retracted too late, burned to nothing. Her world swam. Losing one arm was sustainable. Losing four was unrecoverable.

Tora had to scuttle backwards again. A huge scaled hand slammed onto her hiding spot, reducing the rubble to dust. She teetered on her remaining four limbs.

Long wings flapped overhead, buffeting her backwards. The Dracona form Cimerus took was impressive, its wings spanning almost half the length of the platform. One sweep of the tail demolished the sorry-looking remnants of the ticket office.

If it reared on its feet, the horns on its head would no doubt pierce the glass ceiling. Tora focused, imagining herself taking that mighty scaled form. Fire burned in her belly.

Her concentration slipped. She cursed internally. She didn't have enough stamina – too much spent shifting from human to Shifter to Spectre.

Her mind raced. Time. She needed time.

Her long limbs shrank, becoming humanoid arms and legs again. The stubs of her broken back arms twirled together and elongated, becoming petal-like wings from her shoulder blades. Pointed ears sprouted from her ears, followed by facial features – narrowed crimson eyes and a delicate nose and mouth. The same petal-like protrusions formed at the top of her head. A floating pink drape spun from her chest down to her legs, covering the rest of her body.

She took off, her wings beating without a sound. The world came back in colour. The scarlet scales of the Dracona reflected the flames it produced. Blasts of fire followed in her wake. She darted left and right, with the same agility as a Specktacle, leaving a blazing trail in her wake.

Tora took the course closest to Cimerus. At such a short range he could do very little powerful damage. She was too tall for his tail to reach. Weaving between his wings and avoiding the gusts, she danced between his horns. His swipes missed, but the flow of air that followed kept sending her off-course.

She annoyed him like a fly. Little kicks and pinches here and there made no difference – such tiny attacks seldom did – but it kept him sufficiently distracted. Her energy was coming back. Fae of the Greens might have little in terms of attacks and endurance, but their agility came in useful.

She somersaulted over his head, avoiding his attack from the front. Tucking her wings and allowing herself to freefall, she grabbed a handful of powder from the tips of her wings and threw them into the Dracona's beady eyes.

The irritant worked just as she'd expected. Cimerus stiffened and roared. A huge blast of fire lit up the entire station. He stumbled blindly, slipping off the platform and crashing into the wall. It collapsed with a rumble, exposing the night outside. Glass tinkled around him.

Tora landed on the ground, tiny wings still fluttering. The station was as bright as day time. Shadows flickered on the ground, emphasising the fissures that decorated the place.

Coherent thoughts eventually came to form in her mind. She shifted gears. The cold calculating system gave way to memories and subjective feelings. It was the least she could do to avenge Maraduc. He was so innocent, so trusting. And it was at this scumbag's hands he perished – led indirectly by her.

Killing Cimerus wouldn't bring Maraduc back, but it would make her feel a hell of a lot better.

As her Specktacle dust began to wear off on Cimerus, she shifted again. Four giant, scaled feet stamped on the ground. Fire burned at the pit of her stomach. Large wings stretched, knocking over the train boarding/arrivals board. Sharp eyes glared across the crumbled platform as her brother straightened up.

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