A cold rush of air, a clean displacement, and "MISS" floated up where Diana should have been struck.
"Sister Diana," He grabbed her arm and pulled. "Get out. Go back to the city, now."
Diana took two deliberate steps and pushed him aside instead.
The halberd meant for her took Don across the side, and it was Diana who fell for the third time.
Something ignited in Don's chest, not tactics, not calculation. Something older and less patient than either.
"Fuck your mother!" he shouted at the Bone General, his voice raw.
The White Bone General let out a low, contemptuous laugh, raised its hand, and prepared to bring Diana back a fourth time.
Don stopped caring about composure. He looked at the boss, looked at the silver light gathering in its outstretched palm, and made his decision.
Today, it ended, one way or the other.
