The ceiling.
A light.
Fragment of drywall.
Burning—fuck, what wasburning?
Ears ringing, Seymour found himself face down on the floor. His vision blurred, his body ached, and he struggled to push himself up. “Wh-what…?” He touched his shoulder. “Day…? Where is…?”
“Seymour!” Day cried.
She sounded so far away.
Where was she?
Sariel…
Where was Sariel at?
Where…
Fuck.
Fuck, he had to move. Had to get going. Had to move right now.
Seymour managed to get up on his knees, and he saw the lower half of what may have been some sort of snake monster.
Blood, scales—oh, Christ, it was stilltwitching.
Seymour scrambled back until he hit the wall, reeling as he fought to stand.
There was another explosion, a burst of power that resembled one of those lightning ball things Seymour had only ever seen in that one viral video online. This one was huge, pulsating and bright, and it was a stunning shade of neon blue.
It was coming right at Seymour.
“Fuck—”
Golden light burst forth, blocking out the ball of energy.
It was Sariel, transformed into his epic angel self once more, and he howled furiously as he staggered back a step from the new implosion of magic or whatever the fuck that lightning shit was. He stood firm, his wings flapping, and his voice filled the narrow space as he snarled, “Stand down.Now.”
The monsters attacking cared not for the warning, and they pushed forward.
Seymour saw them in fragmented glimpses as he finally got back on his feet, though he had to teeter against the wall to keep himself upright. He saw fur and claws and teeth, and fuck, another one of those big lightning balls. As Sariel seemed all right for the moment, though clearly under duress, he tried to focus on finding his other companion. “Day…?”
“Here!” Day bounded toward him. Her eyes widened. “Seymour, behind?—”
Boom.
Seymour came off the ground, aware he was flying somewhere with no way to stop it. A bloom of pain erupted as his left arm slammed into something solid, and then his entire bodylit up in brilliant agony as he made contact with a horizontal surface.
Every muscle twisted in pain, he was frozen but trembling, and he couldn’t even draw a breath to power the howls trapped in the back of his throat.
Ow.
Which was really the understatement of the century as Seymour’s senses returned to him and helped him deduce he’d been exploded through a wall.
Someone screamed.
