The redhead was devoured in a single gulp.


    “What an idiot,” cackled the Lizardman. He mimicked a balled fist with his hand, morphing the stone beast into clenched fingers, wrapping around Azrael, ruffling through his limbs and locking him in place. He looked at his captured prey. “Like ‘lil Raen, like ‘lil fledgling.”


    The Lizardman smacked his lips, willing his mangled fingers of stone towards him, bringing his captured prize close.


    “You’re the diversion while she attacks, is it?” He redirected his attention back to Raen, flashing her a wink. “You’ve got nowhere left to run.”


    “On the contrary,” said Azrael. “You shouldn’t avert your gaze from your prey so easssily.”


    The tick of a timer struck its last, lighting the arena up in chaos. An infernal conflagration devoured reptile and redhead, in a smothering gulp.


    Guns alone weren’t her forte. As much as she loved explosives, she couldn’t turn her limbs into grenades. Luckily, she had a leftover bomb in her backpack, which Azrael had caught moments before he was devoured by the stone beast.


    With a resounding boom, the Lizardman’s miasma was dissipated, toppling over the stonewall he had erected. A fallen mound stood where his creation once was. Her gaze shifted from the lingering rubble strewn about, to a red tuft that caught her eye.


    A limbless torso whistled overhead, sailing over the chaos.


    Holding out her arms, Raen caught the quarterly charred remains of her comrade, who coughed up a mix of blood and smoke. “I can’t believe we pulled that off, spur of the moment.” She smiled, setting the redhead’s remains on the ground and covering him in her jacket.


    Azrael sprouted vessels like the roots of a tree, sheathing his bones and muscles beneath skin. He reverted back to his original form, filling into her jacket. He zipped up his freshly baked, exposed half, and sat up queasily. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am to be free of that dress.”


    “But you don’t mind wearing nothing but a jacket, huh?” Raen loosened a laugh, shaking her head. She was glad Azrael had made it. And that too from an impromptu on the fly exchange of glances signalling a plan she had no idea would have worked out in the first place. A foreign concept from all the other times she had had to mentor fresh assassins. Perhaps, he’s got more potential in this line of work than he let on, at the start. From no miasma, to taking full advantage of it.


    In the midst of her mirth, out the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of movement. Her instincts eroded rational thought, and she ducked under, dodging a stony projectile hurtling towards her head. Exhaling a shocked breath, she grabbed Azrael and made a run for it.


    “Hold it right there you ssslimy cu–”


    The air was filled with the lingering scent of burning fumes as the dust cleared around a reptilian figure. He groaned, disoriented and dazed, as he struggled to free himself from the rubble of what used to be his stone beast. His once left arm was reduced to a mangled stump, barely dangling off charred, fleshy gristle.


    Raen didn’t wait for a second volley of projectiles. She ran past the partitions, diving backstage. She switched her grip from Azrael to her unconscious target, scooping him up, while the redhead followed her lead.


    “So, what’s the plan?” asked Azrael.


    “We run for the nearest exit.” She held up her fleshy rifle, firing at a horde of oncoming guards, and pummelling through their cheese-holed remains. A gust of wind brushed against her cheek, halting her at a fork in the path. Kicking off the path on the left, she headed right, leading Azrael to a dead end adorned with a painted glass pane nearly seven feet in height. A crack at the top of the glass invited the whistling wind, peppering a salty stench to the turbulence that snapped at her face.


    “They’re in here!” A guard beckoned at the rest of his comrades, signalling the location of the cornered trio.


    Past the reinforcements, Raen sighted a scuffling Lizardman, carried by a henchman. “If he hauls his ass over, we’re screwed.”


    “We’re screwed either way.”


    “Unless…” She produced a remote from a back pocket, eyeing the advancing guards. “You good with a quick dip in the pool?”


    “Huh?”


    She smiled. Flipping the trigger on the remote, she simultaneously fired her rifle at the painted glass pane. Reverting the rifle back to a hand, she grabbed Azrael and her target, before leaping off the ledge.


    A heartbeat and a half later, an inferno devoured the halls, riddling the lighthouse auction site in a sea of flames. The shockwave of the explosion flung her across the night sky, till she began sinking into the tempestuous sea below.


    The prisoners’ room should be the safest place here. Hopefully the authorities will get there in time.


    Navigating the plane was Macie’s job.


    Popping a berry flavoured bubble, she chewed up the exhausted gum, aimlessly flitting through the night sky.Glancing over the gas tank, she huffed in annoyance. The meter is nearly out. If that wench and brat are not showing up, I am out of here.


    She ran a hand through her wavy locks, tapping her timepiece, she took one final round around the lighthouse. All of a sudden, night paved way for morning. A brilliant conflagration lit up the sky, followed by a deafening blast quietening the propeller’s hum. The lighthouse had burst into a yellow and orange blaze, spewing combustive fumes spiralling into the heavens.


    A splatter of blood and scales washed up against the cockpit’s windshield, earning Macie’s distaste. “The wench and her theatricals.” Switching on the wipers, streaks of watered-down bloodied scales were smudged off the windshield. From the peripherals of her sight, she noticed a tangle of bodies spiralling into the sea below, curling up a frothy whisk of turbulent sea around the crash site. “That must be them.”


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    Flipping switches, she began her descent into the sea, ready to scoop up her package for the night.


    Amid the tumultuous dance of crashing waves, Raen’s world swirled in a whirlpool of chaos. The saltwater’s bitter embrace pervaded her senses, plunging her into the depths of turbulence.


    She struggled against the lapping currents, wrestling to keep afloat, despite the unconscious target doing little in the current quandary.


    She panned the wet, frothy horizon. Her sights were set on seeking her currently elusive companion amid the crashing waves of the expansive sea. The waters whispered secrets of Azrael’s whereabouts, tossing up faint bubbling bellows, but he remained evasive in the ever-shifting aquatic canvas.


    Unexpectedly, like a celestial beast descending from the heavens, a thunderous hunk of metal swooped down towards her. A cascade of seawater engulfed her brine-slathered frame, chilling her to the bone. From within the metallic behemoth came a demanding bellow, “GET IN ALREADY!!!”


    Feeling equal parts surprise and relief, Raen summoned the last of her strength, propelling towards the opening at the tail end of the plane. She hauled her exhausted body over the threshold and carefully deposited the unconscious target over the nearest backseat.


    “Give me five spans,” she said. Steeling her resolve, she dove back into the roiling embrace of the aquatic turbulence. No matter what protests or grievances Macie might harbour, she was not forsaking Azrael.


    Navigating through the murky depths felt like traversing a labyrinth of challenges, akin to wrestling a colossal hippo in its own domain. With each kick, she delved deeper into the watery abyss.


    Where are you!?


    Fighting against the currents, she swam through the watery chaos. She kept her eyes wide open, despite the whipping salt, stabbing at her eyes.


    In spite of her own misery, the thought of it being Azrael’s last mission was unbearable. Especially after the stunt they had pulled off. Breathlessness clutched at her lungs, compelling her to reluctantly resurface. Taking a moment to regain her composure, Raen found herself at the tail end of the aircraft yet again. Her pink eyes, sore from the saltwater, searched intently near the looming presence of the lighthouse. And then, just as hope threatened to falter, a sudden jolt lanced through her right shoulder. The pain was followed by a sharp tug, throwing her against the unforgiving interior of the plane, eliciting a twinge of annoyance.


    In that instant, the engine roared to life, its droning hum vibrating through the sea as the aircraft began its ascent. Raen was caught within the wild thrashes of its upward trajectory, tossed about like a leaf in a tempest. Her instincts took over, clinging on with all her might. The world around her turned into a whirlwind of motion and deafening turmoil.


    “What gives?” Raen seethed as she shakily rose to her feet, morphing her hand into a rifle. She could feel her gut sink, as the flesh beneath her navel began to smart.


    “You didn’t think you could esscape me that easssily, did you?” hissed a scaly voice, inching towards her.


    Leaning against the door to the cockpit, she steadied her rifle with her free hand. “You’ll always be a pain in the ass till the bitter end, huh?”


    “You enjoy it more than you’re letting on.”


    Biting her lower lip, Raen channelled her seethe into a torrential barrage of bullets.


    “Avoid the little pilot’s room, will ya?” Macie was doubled over, visible from a hole over the door standing between her and the bedlam.


    “Don’t worry darlin’,” said the Lizardman. “I won’t let harm come your way. You’re my one-way ride to a mutual acquaintance I have a sscore to sssettle with.” He winced, as a volley of bullets shattered against the 20mm stone-coated vest he had fashioned over his torso and limbs, save for his face. His miasma poured over, strengthening the cracked stone. “Quit sssplashing the hot ssstuff over me!”


    Raen curled her lip, fuming. “Your arm doesn’t look like it’s holding up.” She wiped the sweat off her forehead, waving the perspiration off the back of her hand, as she kept firing her rounds from the other hand.


    “I’ll give ya ‘nother sspan of firing off your repulsive flessh bulletss till I gain the upper hand. Oh wait, that wasss a good one.” The Lizardman threw his head back, loosening an unhinged chortle. “Get it? Sssince I only have one arm left!”


    Raen wrinkled her nose. Swinging back and forth, and to the sides, she wasn’t sure of her chances of taking out the Lizardman. Or rather, whether it wouldn’t leave her or Macie as a casualty by the end of their brawl. An aircraft wasn’t the safest place for a gunfight, unless she got a chance up close. She was in enough trouble as is, having lost Azrael.


    Exhaling a sigh, she reverted her rifle back to a hand. “The way I am right now, I won’t be making it past your crappy vest or jest.” She held her hands up, switching her stance by twisting her hips and throwing a jab in the air.


    “What are you doing?” asked the Lizardman, stifling his chuckle. His eyes narrowed at her, sliding his tongue over his scaly lips.


    “A good ‘ol fist fight. You can use your miasma and make yourself a temporary arm, with your stone manipulation technique. You did it long enough for your prick. In comparison, an arm shouldn’t be much of an effort. That should even the odds.”


    “Ah Raen. You’re sstill one hot woman, in sspite of all the ssshit you’ve wrung me through.” The Lizardman held up his hand, channelling a wave of miasma through his stone vest, moulding a limb strapped to his amputated shoulder. Clenching and unclenching his newly forged fingers, flashing a smug smirk. He lunged at Raen, talons extending from stony digits. “You ssshouldn’t have given me the upper hand, ‘lil Raen! Reviving honour, back from duels of yore!”


    Swerving around the voracious claws, she threw an uppercut aimed squarely at his snout. Her fist cracked into his maw, sending his head whipping back as she ducked under a swipe.


    She was just getting started.


    Her knuckles were drawn back, like a catapult’s sling, before being propelled forth as they danced upon the Lizardman’s chest and abdomen, in a symphony of strikes choreographed in their fluidity.


    The Lizardman grunted and recoiled, wincing in a bout of annoyance. His eyes blazed with a primal rage, and he lunged forward once more, driven by a tenacity matching Raen’s. Steadily, his playfulness faded, as he loosened his shoulders and extended his left talons in a hook.


    “This is too easy.” Sliding under the Lizardman’s wide swipe, her body glided with the ease of a ballet dancer, dropping nearly parallel to the ground. In a blink, she leapt forth like a loaded spring, the balls of her feet rushed out and delivered a sharp kick to his shin, cracking stone.


    Feeling the flow of her own momentum, Raen’s hands switched positions with her feet, in a seamless transition. She propelled herself off the ground, her heel extending like a spear towards the Lizardman. The full force of her foot collided with his chest.


    The Lizardman crumpled against the plane’s unforgiving backdoor, dipping his head. Head swinging in a groggy arc, he blinked with half-open eyes. “C-Could we talk this out?”


    “You can run your mouth as long as you draw breath.” Raen took her time walking up to the retching bundle of scales the Lizardman had been reduced to. The last thing she needed was to tip over and give him an edge to reverse the tides of battle. Her eyes were locked onto his crumpled form while she stuck her foot under his chin, applying just the right amount of pressure to shift his position from prone to over his spine.


    The Lizardman slinked back in a slow and laboured manner, desperately trying to draw distance between them. Resting his back against the wall, he held up a hand in surrender.


    But that didn’t matter to Raen. Her hand began to morph and twist, under the sway of miasma. The flesh and bones clicked and contorted, transforming into a pistol. “Any last words?”


    “So much for a fist fight. But I won’t be the one huffing and puffing, no more.”


    In that charged moment, time slowed to a crawl. Raen held her pistol steady, the muzzle pointed directly at the Lizardman. Given the distance it was impossible to miss. She steadied her firing arm with her other hand, looking at her enemy, down the barrel. The brand beneath her navel smarted. An itch that she wanted to relief herself of. Permanently.


    Her fingers closed in around the trigger.


    Driven by instinct, the Lizardman lunged at the gun, his stony fingers reaching out in a desperate bid to disarm Raen, right when she pulled the trigger.