Washington
The rest of the evening passed without much further incident. The two women continued flirting, and Serra never managed to get a straight answer out of Washington regarding Dunham. She was really closed lip about it, and really didn't want to talk about whatever was going on there, continually changing the subject until Serra dropped it. And, as always, her mind was as much of an enigma to Serra as Serra's was to her.
Washington found it refreshing.
Serra DrosaSerra found it infuriating.
That was why she was in the dark, kneeling beside the bed where this frustratingly opaque creature as she slept, with her hands clapsed together. She'd left Washington cuddled up to a set of blankets after sneakily slithering out of her grasp, and so here she was. She breathed deeply - once, twice - while the room grew chill beyond the blankets and pillows wrapped about Washington's body. Inch by inch the mind of Serra Drosa closed once more to the goddess Columbia, just as the senator's vibrant purple eyes shut in turn. Her breathing increased in tempo, her chest heaving. She brought those hands up to her heart and hunched over, squeezing all her muscles together in turn until her breath caught in her throat and -
What does she not wish me to see?
Serrulata SynShow me.Serrulata Syn's eyes opened, a piercing red flecked with sinister sulfuric yellow. Her body, woefully exposed to the dim light of Serra Drosa's room, became still. She lowered her hands down to her knees, and held that last breath deep in her lungs. The faint moonlight dimmed further still, and her mind reached out free of any haze of reverence for the knowledge the young politician sought.
She stayed that way for a long time, into the night, before an answer came.
Lord Syn slowly, silently, stood from where the senator had knelt in prayer and she in meditation, and turned her eyes pitilessly down to Washington's slumbering form. Scarred fingers clenched by her sides, once, twice, before freezing in place. Then she released Serra Drosa's last held breath, and bared her teeth.
Don't worry, Serra dear - I will take care of everything.
There were many preparations to be made. Washington and Serra Drosa parted ways late into the morning, knowing they had all kinds of briefings and meetings to attend to throughout the day to prepare for the Senate's response to the attacks from the day prior. Security details had to be addressed too. Senator Drosa was busy. People saw her, and spoke with her, and all was well.
Longirsu
Longirsu's hand squeezed the haft of the World Spear, and it whined to life. Carving the flesh of the fiery one had gathered an unexpected sulprus of energy, and with one thought, the Orchestrator now saw it processed. A stream of black geometries shining with conductive tracks and circuitry burst from the blunt end of the weapon and divided itself among the lesser Terrortech units that remained, in an instant concluding the process of assimilation.
Where the flow of ancient metatechnology disappeared, it left behind tempered metal and enhanced mechanisms. Longirsu's expression brightened harshly, equally poised for slaughter or battle.
As Americana prepared herself for her last stand against the invisible monstrosities of metal and madness arrayed before her, as dark forces began to swell from the construct her foe relied so dearly on for victory, a sudden upsurge of power appeared on top of their location to Galatea's sensors. In the exact same instant, before she had any opportunity to report it, the newly upgraded Terrortechs found themselves pulled violently into the nearest trees, slamming through bark hard enough to reduce them and their wooden cushions to worthless pulp once, twice - by the third time they were aware enough for Longirsu's shield to protect them from total destruction.
And then, from atop the tallest tree, from the darkest of branches where nothing could possibly have moved and so it had to be something that had been
waiting for them all along, a black cloaked figure descended and landed between them and Americana. The divine champion could make out no features of her savior from under her shadowed hood save two piercing, gleaming pinpricks of red, before she turned to show her back to her. Her voice came out rasping, impenetrable in its identity save that she was most certainly a woman.
"Leave. Now."
