"Sir, you did it!!" Vic cheered from the back, still panting, barely having escaped death by his own stupidity.
"Not yet," Emery said sharply.
The headless female puppet collapsed with a metallic shriek, but from the mangled torso a screaming wisp of light burst free—Vashka's soul, wild with terror.
Emery was ready. Spatial energy surged from his hand, twisting the air as he attempted to seize the fleeing spirit. But threads of spirit energy snapped outward from her translucent form, weaving a shimmering cocoon around herself—shielding her from his grasp and forming the core of an escape technique.
"No! You are not leaving!"
Emery's Icarus Wings flared open, arcs of light cracking as he launched forward. But the two humanoid puppets leapt into his path as Vashka's will surged through them.
