Unholy Player

Selina looked calm, steady—not because she believed they’d survive, but because she’d already accepted the reality. The energy in her body wasn’t replenishing naturally. What remained was all she had left. Every second mattered now.

While she calculated ways to delay the inevitable, believing—perhaps stubbornly—that someone might still come, the silence broke.

"Sorry."

Selina turned. Evangeline sat with her knees pulled close, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders trembled as quiet sobs escaped her. Her voice came out cracked and muffled.

"You came to help our city... And now... because of us, you’re trapped here."

Selina watched her quietly, then looked back at the clawed hand reaching for them again. She said nothing. But her silence spoke louder than any comfort could.

Seconds dragged by. Selina, prepared to use her last energy to freeze the reaching hand and the gap itself, resigned herself to buying a little more time. Just as she was about to act, something changed.

At first, she saw it—the giant hand that had been tearing through stone now slowed... then stopped completely.

And then she felt it.

A warmth. Subtle yet undeniable, washing over her body like a blanket over her frozen skin. Her tension faded slightly, a quiet stillness settling over her.

’’T-This... ’’ But while Selina felt warmth tempering her calm exterior, the reaction beside her was starkly different.

Evangeline, moments earlier weeping quietly in defeat, now looked worse. Her body shook violently, her arms clutching at her shoulders as if trying to hold herself together. Her eyes, wide and terrified, locked onto Selina’s face.