"Ada-"Adam, wait! was what she'd tried to say, upon hearing Zigmund's laughter. A single step toward him was all she managed before the explosion.
She'd been blown into the air, in the direction of the temple, her Class-given reflexes and agility enabling her to flip and land in such a way that her fall wasn't so bad. Still, when she hit the ground feet first, she continued to tumble and roll along some distance before managing to gain purchase on the ground and skid to a halt. Crouched in the three-point stance, one hand held her head as the ringing in her ears shook her brain - her eyes squeezed shut from the pain.
Fortunately, she was in good and safe company, as she'd ended up next to the temple with Barracker and James close by; two people who weren't close enough to be affected by the explosion. But still,
Where is Adam? And the others? She managed to capture fragments of the end of the Paladin and Cleric's words to eachother, then another bright light and loud noise seered her senses.
But the light did not hurt to look at. And the noise was relievingly a voice of her friend. A man who'd taken some of the harder hits in their four-versus-one melee assault on Zigmund.
Clive. Now she could see that Zigmund was back on his feet - a revelation that shook her core. Zigmund was fully healed! But Clive was too! Each of them empowered with a very visible aura, facing eachother in a stand-off. How the situation had come to this, she was still processing and her emotions were being thrown in all directions - unfortunately, mostly negative...
"
I ain't give a damn who you are, I only care about one thing..."
Barracker and James, by this point, had ran past her, both in different directions. MacKensie managed to tear her eyes away from powerful, central focus of the battle, desperate to look around and make sure everyone was okay. James was running towards... she squinted...
"Oh no," she breathed. Adam was down and seemed in need of serious attention. Fenna was up and coming towards her. Then she saw Zell getting up before attention was demanded by her fellow Ranger.
Everyone is alive, she noted with relief as she started to listen to Fenna. Relieved, she was, but relief only slowed her descent into darkness.
"I don't know if this works," Fenna said as she put her hand halfway into MacKensie's ammunition pouch and began to embue some magic into a dozen of her bolts.
"My thanks." MacKensie pulled a bolt out, cold to the touch, with an icey glow.
"Ice," she said, hesitantly, almost as a question.
"I don't know if this will hurt him more or not, try it with one bolt. If it doesn't work, keep them for later."
MacKensie nodded weakly, her eyes being pulled all over the place. Clive and Barracker were valiant in their effort, but it was not nearly enough.
Would there be a 'later?' Was Adam okay? Was he actually alive? She had no answers. She looked back at Fenna and nodded again,
"Okay," giving the older woman a small touch on the elbow as thanks and good luck. Fenna turned to the battlefield and MacKensie drew her one-handed crossbow from the small of her back and loaded an ice bolt into the chamber. There was a high probability that this ice bolt would be nullified, due to Zigmund's Source Domain and the fact that her weapon wasn't very powerful in the first place, but they had nothing to lose by trying. The situation was much like her mindstate: Desperate.
'Desperate' turned to 'Dire' very quickly, when Zigmund displayed his seeming-invincibility in a fight with Fenna.
"Fenna!" It was horrifying. Her eyes shimmered with fear and the threat of tears. She aimed her weapon, but as Fenna was hit like a battering ram, MacKensie found herself paralyzed, thinking,
How did it come to this? We were so close! She couldn't believe how the tables had turned.
"Fenna.""MacKensie." She heard the voice, but couldn't take her eyes off Fenna's half-concious form on the floor.
"This is impossible," she muttered as she took in the aftermath of swift destruction. Everyone was down. And Zigmund was standing tall and all-but untouched.
"Impossible."She was dragged down to a knee by Zell and drawn helplessly to his gaze as he told her what she already knew. They were doomed. "But
I can kill him." He put a hand on her shoulder, nodding his head, eyes wide. She could not help but shake her head.
Impossible, was the thought running through her mind. She was not convinced. "I can kill him but I'll only get one chance. This sword... once per day..." he suddenly shook his head. "Fuck all that.
Trust me. I can kill him but I need to get close, and I can barely walk."
He grabbed her gauntlet, his other hand still on her shoulder. She listened, but her conviction had worn away. She was exhausted. She did not believe. She'd given in. "You can get me there. Twelve yards. That's how close I need to get. Ten metres. Like a football penalty box, you've seen it right? The goal..."
"I don't know," she admitted weakly. His words were swirling around her ears, but not exactly registering. A blockade of despair had formed over her. Her eyes watered.
"Fuck.. listen. Get me twelve yards in.
Please. Zip us in there and let me go. Twelve yards.
I trust you," were the last words: Three words that seemed get past the blockade - Three words that snuck into her mind and sparked a small flame of willpower within. He let go of her gauntlet and gently guided her head so their foreheads touched. The flame of willpower that had been sparked, now grew into a small fire. "I trust you." The fire grew. She closed her eyes, prompting a tear to roll down her cheek. Inside, she searched out that fire. It was there... willpower. "Do you trust
me?"
"With all my heart," she answered. He'd saved her. On the brink of total collapse, he'd given her something to support herself with: His plan. His strength. But more importantly: His faith.
She took the deepest of breaths and let it out, then opened her eyes.
"Twelve yards."The time had come for action. They gripped eachother around the waist and she concentrated her perception.
Twelve yards. With her sharp eyes, she could almost make out the radius around Zigmund. But what to fire her gauntlet at? What to grapplehook onto?
"Bastard! Motherfucker! Die fucking ogre!""James, no don't," she bemoaned. James was running wildly at Zigmund. If none of Second Chance's
front-row fighters could handle the ninja in close-quarters, then James was...
What? Ogre? the thought brought her mind all the way back to their first day in this world. Their first hour. Their first battle. That's when she realised that James was signalling her! Or Zell! Or both! Surely so! He was too clever, too intentional... it could not be a coincidence. He was enacting some crazy distraction plan and they were meant to capitalise.
"Jai vous, mon amie," she whispered.
"Lord have mercy."As he struck, she went to fire her grapplehook and burst into the fray, but her instinct told her to wait, even when she saw him get attacked. Somehow she knew that James was just too damn smart to think a simple distraction was enough to stop this powerful and intelligent foe. Zigmund was no ogre.
And she was
right.James took heavy damage. It was hard to look at - tough to stay put - and MacKensie could only hope that he would be okay. But her eyes were now on Zigmund who was writhing and staggering around, holding his ears. What in the sacred blue had James done!? Zigmund seemed physically invincible. But James had found a way. Whatever their party leader had done, it was something she had not seen from him before. And it was
working. Zigmund was stumbling in the direction of the steps of Temple Hill. This was her chance.
Just above Zigmund's head height, she fired her blue beam/wire out and connected to the pillar their enemy was moving towards. It just so happened to be the very same pillar that MacKensie and Zell had been stood against, the night before. A good omen, perhaps.
A trace of a smile crept onto her face as she knew just what to say to Zell. The same thing she'd told him on the walls of Hommas, right before James and Zell had cooked up something ridiculously insane.
"I know that you specialize in stupidity but I'd rather not die again, so whatever you are going to do, do it well."And with that, she held Zell tight, then they went from 0-60mph in a second, zooming horizontally towards Zigmund's position. At such speed, the wind was fierce in her face, but her eyes remained firmly open and focused on,
Twelve yards. And within moments, the time came...
...and she let him go...