Celeste (nèamh) catches the steel beam with her right foot. An excellent parry. Her opponent is a master. The smoke pillows up from the rooftops. I am several miles away, watching the spectacle. Looking intently. Trying to see.

Her opponent is a master. Indech, they call him. Tragedy. Otherwise known as “A Thousand Tiny Cuts” by a new alias. I have scanned the texts, but not much is known about Him.

Unwara, his third power. Celeste has an uphill battle. He can do alot to make you hate yourself. He can do alot to make it not worth the effort. Celeste only has a little bit of powder left. She gets the feeling she will need every last drop.

I gaze on intently. Truth be told, I'm barely aware of my surroundings. Watching from afar, several hours in the future, I don't really know what order the pieces will fall in, nor how to make them fit. Reality.

Something snaps me out of it. An alert. A girl's desperate scream. An audible gasp all around the city. Celeste is falling, hurtling towards Ground at one thousand kilometers per hour.