There were countless reasons to dodge. . .

And there was only one reason not to.

The frozen moment passed, and I came. Cum blasted her in the stomach, up her tunic to those wonderous breasts, to her neck. I saw each strand strike, slowing her by degrees.

I watched, stunned by the drain and the cold clutch of ****, and saw thw moment my vision went golden. It ran to red and then darkness as pain tore across my face and claimed my eye.

It was an effort, equal to any I'd known, to stay conscious. The pain, the drainage, **** and the relief it offered.

It really fucked me up.

I pitched forwards, my legs giving out on me, and saw Lochra's blank eyes. She stood wooden and still, tiny bolts of electricity coursing over her body.

I summoned the embers of my resolve, the last vestigal sparks of my life, and fed them to my dying body. Five seconds more.

I only needed five more seconds. Three.

Even three was enough

My vision faded.

The image of the Warmaiden flashed through my mind.

My heart stopped.

The image of my sister, twisted three ways; tainted with betrayal, filled with love and lust, and bright with curiosity.

I drew a final breath.

The image of my father; a portly man with a bushy mustache. Black hair, peppered, and bright blue eyes. His words, his laugh, and wide warm hands.

I felt him lift me up and spin me, feeling like a child again. "Well, you ready to go home, lad?"

Thought and memory, blades in my soul.

I took a step.

Resolve like fire, born of fury.

I looked up.

Defiance writ deep in me, deeper than love or lust or hate. An abyss of stupidity, a profound weakness, birthplace of evil and despair.

Was I ready to go?

One word, even sweeter than 'Victory', came to mind.

"No!"

I touched her, felt a connection, and took her to the ground.