Chapter Text
Nothing about the mission had been enjoyable. Not a single second. For starters, the desert? What the hell was she thinking, accepting a mission to the desert?! Alongside this, it was far too hot and, to make matters even worse, Alia had nobody to go with. So, being alone, being in the desert, being far too hot AND being attacked by a group of sorcerers that were far better trained than what the mission description had said. And that was only the start of it...
Alia Crow felt the blade pierce her stomach, a scream torn from her throat as it was torn out.
"Puny girl!" her assailant cackled, stamping down on her face.
Alia barely rolled out the way, sand getting in her wound, a sure cause of a soon-to-come infection. Standing on horrifically shaky legs, she began to form lightning arcs on her fingertips. Thrusting her hand forward, a ball of lightning leapt towards them, frying their arm. They, much to Alia's annoyance, did not fall down. Hell, they barely flinched.
"That will do little, scum!" Gods, they loved the sound of their own voice. Alia charged more lightning, this time slamming her palm into the ground, bolts of electricity leaping up to, finally, kill her assailant.
Three more leapt down from the ruins of the chapel ceiling, landing in a crouch of somebody who had done it far too many times.
"Well, this just got a lot more annoying..." Alia muttered, a knife of lightning forming in her hand. The first attacker charged forward, the second beginning to charge a spell whilst the third dashed forward as well.
Spinning in a blur of sharp edges and black knives, the first attacker collided with Alia, knocking her down easily. Alia struggled to hit them at all, but when she did, they were fried alive inside their armour. The third one threw forward a barrage of knives, tongues of fire licking the air as they spun. Managing to dodge all but one, Alia yelped as it tore into her thigh, splitting skin with ease. Her clothes caught alight, and she had barely time to recover before another barrage of knives flew towards her.
Alia ducked under the knife storm, the blades running along her arm, slashing even more skin. She had to bite back tears as the wind went up, spilling sand and dirt into her wounds. Tossing her lightning knife with a shaking arm, Alia barely nicked the knife-throwers arm, but it was enough to throw them off guard. She charged forward, throwing them to the floor and grabbing a rock. With a sickening crunch and crack, Alia slammed the rock down, popping their head like a fruit.
Now, the last one. A ball of fire the size of a lorry tire floated between their hands, and tentacles of fire and flames leapt forth from it. The tentacles hit Alia square in the chest, and she slammed back into a stone pew.
"Bastard!" she grunted, standing up on agony filled hate. That was probably the only thing keeping her going at this point. Alia formed a shield of lightning around her, giving her a fleeting moment to catch her breath. The final attacked began to stroll forward, words in a foreign language spilling from their lips. Alia formed an axe of lightning in her hand in a last burst of adrenaline and energy. Leaping up, Alia swung down.
It was too late, however, as the axe was caught by the ball of fire. Shattering both in a burst of energy. The burst sent Alia and her attacker flying, the latter landing under a falling pile of rubble that crushed them in a burst of blood and gore.
Alia was far better off, though not unharmed. Her bones were now essentially rubble in her arm, and it hurt like all hell.
"Crow... requesting immediate... support..." she cried into her walkie-talkie.
"Roger that, Crow, on our way," the line ended with a crackle.
As if things couldn't get any worse, three more attackers entered the chapel. Then, in a sharp pop, Ghastly Bespoke appeared beside a Teleporter. The Teleporter, Fletcher if she remembered correctly, disappeared.
The last thing Alia saw was Ghastly beginning to fight the attackers.