Anomaly ━━ Matt vs Chris Sturniolo¹

𝖝𝖝. Strength, Power, Death

[ tw: violence, torture, death ]

𝖝𝖝. Strength, Power, Death

MAEVE SCREAMS with them, and the lights flash, then flicker, then fail.

One minute of darkness. That's what she needs to give them. The screams, the yelling, the stampede of feet almost breaks her concentration, but she forces herself to focus. The lights flash horribly, then die, making it almost impossible to move.

"In the alcoves!" a voice shouts, yelling over the chaos. "They're running!" More voices join the call, though none are familiar. But in this madness, everyone sounds different. "Find them!" "Stop them!" "Kill them!"

The Sentinels on the landing have their guns aimed while more blur along, barely shadows as they give chase. Granger is with them, Maeve reminds herself. If Granger and the other servants could sneak Cyrus and Weston in before, they can sneak them out again. They can hide. They can escape. They'll be fine.

Maeve's darkness has to save them.

A blaze of fire erupts from the crowd, curling through the air like a flaming snake. It roars overhead, illuminating the dim ballroom. Flickering shadows paint the walls and the upturned faces, transforming the room into a nightmare of red light and gunpowder. Kelina screams nearby, bent over the body of Reginald. The spry old Naya wrestles her granddaughter off the corpse, pulling her away from the chaos. Reginald's eyes stare glassy up at the ceiling, reflecting the red light.

Still Maeve holds on, every muscle inside her hard and tense.

Somewhere near the fire, she recognizes the king's guards hurrying him from the room. He tries to fight them, shouting and yelling to stay, but for once they don't follow his orders. Astraea is close behind, pushed on by Chris as they run from danger. Many more follow, eager to be free of this place.

Security officers run against the tide, flooding the room with shouts and stamping boots. Nobles all around press by Maeve in an attempt to escape, but she can only stand in place, holding on as best as she can. No one tries to pull her away; no one notices her at all. They're afraid. For all their strength, all their power, they still know the meaning of fear. And a few bullets are all it takes to bring terror out in them.

A weeping woman bumps into Maeve, knocking her over. She lands face-to-face with a corpse, staring at Colonel Laughlin's scar. Silver blood trickles down her face, from her forehead to the floor. The bullet hole is strange, surrounded by grey, rocky flesh. She was a stoneskin. She was alive long enough to try and stop it, to shield herself. But the bullet couldn't be stopped. She still died.