Markl's pupils dilated when he read through her intent. His right hand glowed. Tora narrowed her eyes. Whatever magic he had in mind, it wouldn't stop her momentum.

His open-palmed left hand slammed into the centre of her chest, knocking the wind out of her. Everything slowed. Tora's chest was aflame. She couldn't breathe. All the energy drained from her arms. The handle of her weapon slipped from her hands.

The hammer crashed into his right shoulder like a two-ton truck, with a crack that snapped through the air. Damn, not enough damage; he'd heal that.

She flew backwards. Things sped up again. Her feet landed first. Triumph flooded her. She'd be back in the fray--

Her legs collapsed beneath. The force carried her up and over. The world tumbled. Her head cracked against a hard surface and she slid onto her back, dazed, stars flashing all around. Soft thuds sounded as the books -- she must have hit a bookshelf -- rained around her. Her ears rang. She pushed herself up; her legs wobbled, alien in sensation, and she crashed down again.

"The heck?!" she yelled, her face against the dusty ground. Her heart beat irregularly; her head spun. Her limbs refused to obey her. With arms that moved like thick syrup, she managed to prop herself up on her elbows. Her chest throbbed. Glancing down, she sucked in a breath.

"What the hell's crap is this?" she demanded, her cheeks flushing.

A crimson symbol carved itself, painless, onto the centre of her chest. A spiral sat above her breast bone, and turned into a spike pointing down towards her belly button. It gleamed like fresh blood on her dark leathery skin. The symbol was a mirror opposite to that tattoo Markl had on his right arm. She groaned. More Sentinel spells.

"You don't play fair, you sack of--"

"Nobody plays fair in war, Tora," said Markl, panting as he picked himself up. His weapons, including the Veil Cutter, littered the floor from his fal. He winced; it seemed Tora's hammer had done some damage, at least. She watched, smug. And he wasn't healing.

But neither was she getting up.

Whispering expletives, Tora forced her disabled body into a sitting position. It was like she'd ran fifty marathons, but without the muscle aches. Her body just refused to obey. Had he somehow severed every nerve in her body?

"You're a stubborn girl." He did not make it sound remotely complimentary. Sentinel armour appeared over his body like the way her Shifter skin melted over her human ones when she turned. Except she knew they offered little genuine protection. He picked up a long dagger from the ground. His right arm hung limply.

"And you're a cheating maggot." She spat on the ground. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"I've taken away your biggest weapon."

"And that is...?"

"Your fists. I told you once that you'll regret investing so much into your physicality and neglecting special powers... Now your comeuppance has come."

Tora called him words that would make criminals' toes curl. What kind of nerd used the word 'comeuppance' anyway? She threw herself up, willing her legs to obey her. They gave the faintest of twitches but stayed dead, just like that time when she'd done too many squats. Her back strained just keeping her torso upright. Even her eyelids were heavy. Was this what it felt like to have a stroke or neck injury?

Markl marched towards her with pained, but steady steps, his dagger clutched at his side.

"Let's get this over with. We've played out long enough."

Death glimmered in his brown eyes. Tora grunted, straining against the deadweight of a body she'd suddenly been blessed with. Bloody hell. Each purposeful stride brought her one closer step to hell.

Desperation replaced the pissed off feeling and soon it swirled in a pool of rampant nausea in the pit of her stomach. Her head was going to come off. And all she could do was watch.

She glowered, making sure he got the full blast of hatred from her eyes. Markl's brown ones merely gazed back with pity and satisfaction. He raised his gleaming blade.

"This won't hurt, Tora."

"No, it won't," she retorted, jerking her head.

A small frown creased above Markl's forehead. Without warning, a vat slammed into his head. His head snapped to the side. His mouth opened in a comical 'o' shape. He landed with a crash onto his right side, but he kept a hold on his dagger. The vat landed with a dull, full thud on the ground and rolled away, spilling its luminescent contents. Markl swore in a harsh tone she'd never heard before. It made her question how much of the old Markl she knew was real.

There wasn't much time to ponder. Tora focused as much of her wavering mind as she could. Another vat from her far right rose with a wobble, the metal wires connected dancing like spindly legs and its torn piping dribbling glowing liquid. As soon as Markl looked up, she pushed it towards him. He rolled out of the way awkwardly, hindered by his injuries. Tora tugged the container back with her head and lobbed it at Markl again. He rammed at it with his shoulder and it flew away effortlessly.

Tora let out a shaky breath. A low grade migraine pulsed behind her eyeballs. Her body still refused to obey. There was only so much her telekinesis could do even when she was in top form, let alone this sorry tattered state. She barely had energy to blink.

"How much can you keep this up?" Markl had thought the same. Blood trickled down the side of his flushed face. The next lob of the piping from her first vat sailed far off the mark. "How can you stop me?"

"I will," she said through gritted teeth, failing the conviction. Markl weighed her up. Tora could only glare back, her limp body betraying her.

"I have more important things to do. Goodbye."

To her fury, Markl turned around and stalked off. He was going to leave her here! Anger coursed through toras veins, but her limbs remain weak. She strained against her living restraints; her arms drew towards her, but her legs stayed still.

"Get back here!" Her voice cracked. She swore. "I'm not done with you!"

He didn't even turn around. Her shoulders sagged. Her mind whirled. What she'd give to run over and smack him one! This crippled body made her want to punch something -- not that she could physically do that. She had a better chance erecting the great wall of china with her face.

She could only watch with all the strength and endurance of a squashed tomato. Markl marched up the steel steps again, each step purposeful and angry, and stood before a glass tube Tora hadn't noticed before. It was like a science fiction film came true. His left hand glowed over the keyboard before the glass tube. Distant mechanics whirred and the machines around him bleeped. The tube spun on the spot and then slid down.

Another layer of armour slid over Markl's left arm. He reached in. Tora held her breath.

To her bewilderment, Markl stopped with no warning. She bit her lip. She hadn't expected him to actually do as she demanded.

He turned, the glowing tube casting sharp relief to his features.

"I'mma have to stop you right there, buddy."

Tora's jaw dropped. Impossible.

"I see all our stealth lessons have taught you nothing."

"Hey, I got in here without much--whoa!"

Markl coiled and lashed forward. The sound of staggering feet, amplified on the metal grate ground, accompanied Markl's assault. His blade whipped through air. Panicked footsteps interspersed with the whistles of Markl's dagger.

Helplessness and frustration suffocated Tora, who could only watch. Markl forced Carlos back even though the latter was invisible. Carlos stood no chance; he was the worst fighter of the four Seekers that could fight, he had no weapon, and he was the laziest in honing anything that benefited his prowess.

But Markl was tiring and injured. Carlos had that to his advantage. Perhaps he stood a chance.

There was a squawk from Carlos and a satisfied grunt from Markl, who continued to lash out like the dagger was part of his arm even though it was his non-dominant one. Blood spattered the ground. Carlos shimmered into visibility, staggering backwards and clutching his right arm. A thick gash poured blood. White-faced, he staggered backwards, grimacing and flickering in and out of sight.

"Concentration, Carlos," said Markl, as if they were just having a sparring session. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous hunger. His long dagger glistened with Carlos's blood. "I reminded you last time that your ability is compromised when you're distracted."

Carlos's legs tangled with each other and with the wires from the vat Tora had thrown earlier.

"That's not fair, man, you can heal!"

Tora shook her head. No, he couldn't. Not now.

Markl moved in for the kill, panting. He didn't bother with jibes and taunts with Carlos. He raised his dagger. Carlos raised his right arm in a vain attempt to shield himself. With his left, he reached for the fallen vat -- and threw it over Markl, showering him with whatever the glutinous substance was inside.

Markl yelled, dropping his dagger and covering his eyes. Carlos dived at him, tackling him to the grated floor. The dagger went spinning and tumbled down the steps. Chairs and delicate instruments on the desks went flying as the boys wrestled each other, landing punches and kicks wherever they could reach. The air was punctuated with mainly Carlos's yells. His head jerked back as Markl landed a knee on the chin, but he bit back the pain and punched him back.

"God, is that Carlos?"

Tora started at Ross's voice. The lieutenant looked no worse for wear compared to the last time Tora had seen her. A tad sweatier and bloodier, but definitely in a better state than Tora.

"He's not supposed to be here! If he dies--"

"You have to help him." Tora tested her limbs. She sucked in a breath and pushed up into a wobbly stand. "Markl can't heal... he's ran out of it or something."

"What are you doing then?" Ross's keen eyes glanced over Tora's demon form.

"He's paralysed me." Tora spat on the floor. "And I'm gonna punch his face in for this." When she became steadier.

Ross paused, analysing the situation with those all-seeing green eyes. They narrowed at the exposed tube behind the wrestling pair.

"That's the Artefact? A shoe?"

Tora squinted. A translucent heel-shaped object sat on the opened tube.

"I think it's meant to take the form of the most inconspicuous object in the realm." Ross seemed unimpressed by the most powerful object in existence. She cracked her neck left and right.

"I'll get the Artefact. Think you can cover me with your telekinesis?"

"I'll... try. But what about Car?"

Ross grimaced. "If I can't get to the bloody thing, whether or not Carlos survives will be the least of our worries."

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