Bardot panicked, punching the telekinetic barrier holding him in place. Again and again, he thrashed within, to no avail. His strikes were disorganized and chaotic. Every time he managed to make a ripple in one area, Campbell repaired it while Bardot struck another spot.
“Release me, witch bitch!”
“As soon as I see bone, you prick.” Campbell blew more mist into the funneling whirlwind of telekinesis.
Bardot roared in pain as pink acid melted through his diamond armor bit by bit. Soon it’d reach his flesh. Everything went well until he turned his eyes to unscathed feet. The floor didn’t have a telekinetic barrier, and the pink mist floated above by a few inches.
“You need to seal the floor,” I warned Campbell, but it was too late.
Bardot cracked the floor open with a single punch, projecting a dozen diamond shards like shrapnel. Adding a burst of his own telekinesis, Bardot broke through the floor and vanished.
“Dammit, I need to alter the chemical levels,” Campbell thought. “If my mist hits anyone below, it’ll kill them. If they’re lucky.”
The degree she’d shifted her pink mist was apparently undocumented and not within the acceptable perimeters ofher license. She rarely resorted to such caustic measures, but supposedly the chemical strike was strong enough to drop demons in their tracks—something few branch magics could claim.
“You defeated him?” Layla asked, surprised and impressed, having returned to see an empty bubble of pink mist.
“Not exactly,” Campbell said. “Did you clear the floor?”
“Yes, but the others are still flooded with fiends,” Layla explained. “The enchanters and acolytes here are doing their part, but it’s like the fiends are organized.”
“Because they are,” I thought at them. “Chances are, Theodore Whitlock is in the city, orchestrating the fiend’s movements. Your best bet is—”
The floor between Layla and Campbell burst open, carrying a newly re-armored Bardot as he held a diamond sword in each hand. With a swift thrust, he impaled Campbell through her chest and stomach.
“Noooo!” Layla screamed so loudly that it turned into a furious roar of anguish as her therianthrope form overtook her.
Name: Layla Smythe
Branch: Bestial (Therianthropy)
The tiny girl snarled, her body twisted and transformed until she towered over the threatening witch. Rage. So much rage exploded from Layla. With all her strength and added telekinesis, she slammed into Bardot, throwing him back into a wall.
“Guild Master…” Layla’s voice cracked and broke as she swept in to catch Campbell.
There was nothing to be done. Her heart had stopped. Her breathing had ended. Her eyes stared out at nothingness, unable to register Layla’s feline face or blotchy tears.
“This can’t be it…” Campbell’s mind whirled into the darkness of death.
“I’m so sorry,” I called out, hoping to give her something, anything in these final moments.
These seconds, which ticked by slowly, painfully.
“I was supposed to fix it…” Campbell’s mind turned faint, bleeding in and out. “I worked so hard to make this industry better for everyone. I’m not finished. I still have—”
And like too many others, she was dead and gone forever. Campbell’s mind fell away. Her life unfinished.
“You need to run,” I thought at Layla and Amani. “Get the others and run!”
“You heard him,” Layla growled, eyeing Amani before locking her furious gaze onto Bardot. “Get out of here.”
“Oh no, little girls.” Bardot recalled his bloody diamond blades and shifted his stance for combat. “I still got a lot of fight in me and think it’ll be fun to blow off steam, carving you little bitches up.”
Layla roared, lunging for Bardot. Her slashes were swift, but his diamond flesh remained unharmed. Layla’s telekinetic strikes didn’t work a second time, not with Bardot expecting them. Amani dragged the others out, holding three unconscious bodies with her own telekinesis, but Bardot threw a diamond blade to block the doorway.
“Stick around.”
Layla snarled and tackled Bardot. With the full force of her body, she managed to pin him to the floor, but he quicklyoverpowered her. Bardot straddled Layla’s therianthrope form, punching her over and over. Each hit chipped away at Layla’s strength. Still, she continued clawing, biting, and snarling to no avail.
