The Dynamic Dash

"Keep up, Magistrate," Veraxia’s laughter cut through the howling winds of the First Layer. Gideon struggled against the biting ash, his heavy mortal coat doing little to ward off the abyssal cold of the wasteland. Ahead of him, Veraxia moved like a dancer. The freezing gales could not touch her; instead, the very edges of her raven wings caught fire, bleeding golden heat into the grey sky. She turned, her crimson dress whipping violently around her legs, and summoned a beacon of pure hellfire in her palm to light his way. She wasn't just surviving this dead world—she was its master. And she was leading him straight into the dark.