The stone cracked beneath each step as Brynhild thundered across the tower's length, every stride powered by serum-fueled muscle. Elin clung against her, heart in her throat, the wind screaming around them. The edge of the tower raced toward them, the gulf of open air yawning wider with each heartbeat.
Below, the Draugr raised their weapons as one, the courtyard flashing crimson with targeting glyphs. From above, the skiffs dove, engines shrieking, energy cannons locking on. The world closed in on them from every angle—except forward.
Brynhild roared, a sound that split the night, and with one final, earth-shaking stride, she hurled herself from the tower's edge.
The gauntlet detonated with momentum, every gear and piston aligning as she threw her entire body forward. For a heartbeat, they were airborne—two figures flung into the void, suspended against the vast black of the Citadel sky.
Elin's stomach lurched as the air ripped past her, the courtyard spinning below like a pit of fireflies. She dared one glance down and wished she hadn't—the Draugr's eyes blazed like a net waiting to catch them.
But Brynhild only laughed, her eyes wild with exhilaration, the glow of the serum turning her veins into streaks of light. "See?" she shouted over the wind. "I told you—I break things!"
The Citadel wall rushed toward them, closer now but still too far, its surface slick with ice and Draugr plating.
Elin swallowed terror, pressing her forehead to Brynhild's shoulder, as gravity began to drag them down.
The leap carried them farther than either of them had thought possible. For a heartbeat, Elin believed they would actually make it. The wall loomed closer, its frozen surface rushing up to meet them. Brynhild's roar still echoed in her ears, and for an instant it seemed her raw power had outmatched gravity itself.
Then her boots struck stone.
The impact cracked through the air, the shock rattling both their bodies. Instead of firm footing, Brynhild's boots skidded against ice slicking the wall's edge. Her heel caught on a jut of stone, broke free, and suddenly they were sliding downward.
Elin's heart plunged. Their bodies scraped hard against the surface, sparks flaring as Brynhild's gauntlet clawed desperately for a grip. The gauntlet screeched across metal plating welded into the stone, gouging shallow furrows but finding no purchase. The wall rejected them, slick and merciless.
Below, the courtyard yawned like the mouth of hell. Rows upon rows of Draugr shifted, heads tilting in eerie unison as they raised their weapons skyward. Hundreds of crimson eyes burned against the dark, cold and certain. Elin heard the chorus of servos and the whine of energy cells charging. The Draugr were ready to cut them from the sky like birds with broken wings.
"Damn it—hold on!" Brynhild snarled, her teeth bared, but the serum-fed strength that had carried them across the gap was nothing against sheer gravity. Her gauntlet's claws slipped again, a slab of ice breaking free beneath her, and they plummeted another few feet.
Elin's mind screamed. Not like this. Not after everything.
And then instinct overtook terror.
Her hand shot to her sniper rifle, yanking free a piece of kit most would consider trivial—her stabilizer line, an attachment meant for anchoring long-range shots. The magnetic grapple gleamed in her hand, its coiled line designed for stability, not salvation. But in this instant, it was all she had.
With shaking fingers, she slammed the grapple into place, aimed with no time to think, and fired.
The magnetic head screamed across the air and slammed into a seam of alloy plating along the wall. For one horrifying second, it sparked, sliding against the slick metal as though it wouldn't catch. Then it bit deep with a grinding crunch.
The line went taut.
The sudden jerk nearly ripped Elin's arms from their sockets. Pain lanced through her shoulders as the momentum of their fall wrenched them downward before snapping them back. Brynhild let out a savage growl, the cord cutting into her side as both of their full weight strained against the grapple.
They dangled, suspended over the void.
The cable groaned like a living thing, vibrating under the pull. Elin could feel it stretching, fiber by fiber, the threat of it snapping at any second. The smell of ozone thickened the air—Draugr weapons finishing their charge, crimson barrels locking on the pair of helpless intruders swinging above the courtyard.
Elin clenched her teeth, her breath ragged. Please hold. Just hold.
Brynhild twisted, her free hand latching onto the cord above them. Muscles bulged, serum-fed veins glowing brighter with strain as she hauled herself upward. Inch by inch, she climbed, dragging Elin against her chest like a lifeline. The gauntlet dug into the wall, crushing ice and stone in bursts of sparks, leaving gouges where her fists struck.
"Don't you dare slip now," Brynhild growled through clenched teeth. "You're not dying on me, Elin."
Elin pressed her forehead against Brynhild's shoulder, refusing to look down, refusing to see the Draugr below aiming up at them. She focused on the rhythm of Brynhild's breath, the sound of stone breaking under her gauntlet, the pulse of blood in her own ears. Anything but the abyss beneath them.
The grapple cable creaked again, one final groan, before Brynhild slammed her gauntlet into a crack in the wall and pulled them up in a brutal surge of power. With a roar, she heaved both their bodies upward, her boots scraping against ice until finally, mercifully, they slammed onto the narrow ledge of the Citadel wall.
Elin collapsed onto the stone, gasping, her hands trembling as she fumbled to retract the grapple. The line clattered against the wall, frayed but intact, their salvation by a thread.
Brynhild crouched beside her, her chest heaving, eyes blazing with the wild light of victory. She smirked, blood running from a cut on her cheek. "See? Told you I'd get us across."
Elin stared at her in disbelief, then let out a shaky laugh. "You almost killed us both."
"Almost," Brynhild replied with a grin, rising to her feet. "Key word."
But the victory was fleeting. From behind, the skiffs screamed louder, circling in, while ahead the wall stretched long and perilous, Draugr already swarming its length. They had made it across—but this was far from over.
"Run!" Elin shouted, and they did.
Energy bolts hammered the stone at their heels, scorching gouges into the wall. Elin dropped to one knee mid-sprint, sighted her rifle, and snapped off three shots. Each one was perfect — three pilots slumped in their cockpits, skiffs spiraling into the courtyard in screaming fireballs.
Brynhild kept them from being overwhelmed on the ground. Drones leapt from alcoves along the wall, metallic claws scraping stone as they tried to block the women's path. Brynhild's gauntlet struck like thunder, smashing constructs into showers of sparks. One drone she grabbed by the head and hurled over the wall's edge, its shriek fading into the abyss below.
Another skiff dived low, cannons glowing with energy charge. Elin rolled across the wall, drew a bead, and fired directly into its fuel conduit. The effect was instantaneous — the craft erupted into a storm of fire and shrapnel, the explosion washing the sky with red light. The blast knocked two more skiffs from their flight path, clearing a brief gap in the swarm.
The wall itself shook under the chaos, but still they ran, desperate, relentless.
At last, the far end of the wall came into sight. Relief died instantly in Elin's throat. There was no gate, no stairwell, no bridge leading out. Only a sheer drop into the frozen ravine stretching beyond the Citadel.
She skidded to a halt, breath ragged. "Brynhild — it's suicide. That fall will kill us outright!"
Brynhild didn't slow. She grabbed Elin by the arm, hauling her forward even as Draugr reinforcements swarmed closer from behind. "Better a broken leg than no legs at all. You want to stay here and let them cut you to ribbons?"
Elin's protest faltered. Skiffs roared above, drones closed in from both sides, and the heat of Draugr cannons lit the air. The choice wasn't a choice at all.
The two locked eyes, breaths clouding in the frigid night. No words were needed.
Together, they hurled themselves off the wall.
For one breathless instant, they were weightless — bodies suspended against a canvas of stars. Then the world roared back in fury. Draugr turrets lit up along the Citadel's length, lancing the night with streams of burning energy. Bolts screamed past, streaks of deadly fire cutting through the darkness as the women plummeted.
Elin clutched her rifle tight against her chest, Brynhild wrapped an arm around her with iron grip, both vanishing into the abyss below.
The last thing Elin saw before the black swallowed them whole was the Citadel blazing above, a fortress of light and death.