high and perilous

The halo of energy that streams around the Quincy arcs back into wings, casting her shadow flat and black behind her as she crawls away.

She doesn't believe in angels, or gods, or anything except her father. She doesn't know anything except this world. She has heard people speculate that she is a mod soul, that she never existed before, that she will not be reincarnated after her death.

She has learned to find beauty in the edge of a sword, the beam of a laser, the scarlet of her own blood.

She has never found a man beautiful before.

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