Don’t hurt me y’all.
Zo looked helplessly at Daytona.
Daytona was calculating the odds of them surviving the awakening of Sugar’s long repressed power.
“Zo,” the older woman spoke, “listen to me. I need you to activate your armor.”
Dazed, the girl asked, “My what?”
“Your armor. Call the symbols in the old language, make them rise and transform into your armor. At least then one of us will be protected.”
“What old language?”
“Does none of you know anything?” Daytona stamped her foot in frustration.
“But I wasn’t allowed to be alone with my powers. They kept watering me!” Zo complained.
“Listen child. Any moment now, the one called Sugar will lose her grip on that spinning air. If you do not call your armor, you will cease to exist, except for perhaps some blood particles on the ceiling.” Daytona paused, and both females craned their necks upward.
“That’s a long way up,” Zo muttered.
“So call your armor.”
“I don’t know how! You told me that I’m The Wielder of Fire, the Keeper of the Eternal Flame, but I wasn’t born like this, right? Those white coat people made me this way. So how am I supposed to know what to do?” the girl whined.
Daytona spared a glance in the direction of her daughters. The air was almost completely blue. The women did not have much longer to escape before Sugar lost control and killed them all. Her heart ached looking at her girls, but with the cuffs still clasped about her wrists and ankles, she was unable to activate her own armor and the powers contained within it. Her only option was to get Zo to safety, and perhaps call a temporary shield, however weak, to protect herself.
Through the small spaces not tinged with blue, Daytona could see Mae shaking and convulsing. Time was also running out for her. Her body, weakened by years of abuse from SIFRAS with their tracking requests and anonymous potions, was almost certain to give out. Tears stung Daytona’s eyes as she tried her best to invent a solution that was to save them all.
Zo, standing just a few inches away, had her face screwed up in concentration. Old language, armor, rise! she thought desperately.
“This isn’t working!” she growled. How can I protect Her? How can I shield Her? I MUST save Her!
Her body began to feel hot; sweat dotted her upper lip and forehead. Suddenly, she felt a warm embrace. Opening her eyes, she stumbled backwards in shock. Her vision was limited to a narrow slit. There appeared to be something warm and heavy covering her face. She raised her arm, and squealed.
She had called her armor.
Zo moved forward, cautiously, expecting her new covering to be awkward and bulky. Instead, she found that she moved with ease; the armor covering her was less like metal and more like a second skin. Giggling, she jumped up and down, twisting and kicking out her feet.
“ZO!” Daytona snapped, interrupting the young girl’s fun.
She turned her head, letting her narrow sight line land on the woman who claimed to be her grandmother.
“We must go,” the old woman said.
“And what about them?” Zo jerked her head in the direction of Mae and Sugar.
Daytona shook her head sadly, a grim expression on her face. “There’s no time. Mae’s body is failing, and when it does, Sugar is going to go berserk, obliterating everything in her path.”
“And you know this how, exactly?” Zo asked.
“It’s a gift,” Daytona muttered. “I’ll call a shield, you attempt to call a shield while holding onto your armor, and we will move toward the exit, starting now.”
“No,” Sugar moaned. “Mae Day? MAE DAY! NOOOOO!”
“Oh, my Goddess,” Zo breathed. “Is she- ”
Blinding blue light filled the corridor, followed closely by a deafening explosion.