Quoted By:
■-■:
>Prepare to land /somewhere/. Ask the Priestess how they could be nothing, then try to ping the Toys.
<span class="mu-s">S</span>he’d scream if she could, but Erika can’t even draw the first letter of the word ‘AAAAAAAAAFUUUUUUUUUCCKKKKKAAAAAAAAAA’ as gravity hooks her from the vast and beautiful morning sky over Buenos Aires. At her left is the sun, untarnished by smoke or buildings or passing wires, its blinding orange nova drowning in the endless blue. At her left, all of the Toys and the crow-like warrior riding a Black Knight soar like meteorites- and, right in front of her, awaits a cushion of clouds. Erika tucks her wooden body into a ball as she shuts down those deep, shining blue eyes, and doesn’t even notice when she pierces the white mist. What she /does/ notice when those blue gems open is, like the motherboard of a PC with its many little parts, the district of Barracas growing by the millisecond
■-■ Erika: …!!!
specifically, the glass ceiling she’s about to land on
<span class="mu-s">CRASH!!</span>
or through.
