ORIGIN

Entering Hydra had been a mistake.

But, fuck, Imp didn't see it that way.

It was a big, fat, fuck you to the powers that be.

Charging the Ice Worm? Probably also a mistake.

Imp didn't see it that way, either. He was going to fight, and nothing was going to stop him.

Charging in blind? ...Okay, yeah, definitely a mistake. But fuck if Imp was gonna admit that.

He'd been a troublemaker, at times. Hell, throughout his life. A prankster and a thorn in others' sides. A menace, really. A little shit who laughed at others' discomfort. He'd spent half his life drawing graffiti with penises on it.

And yet, somehow, he was now diving toward an Ice Worm blind, yelling insults at it with all his might-

The impact was, blessedly, stunning. He had been able to hear it, but he couldn't see it, couldn't judge his distance, his speed--and it came up, thrashing in the canyon, and its full hundred-ton weight of plates and bristles had slammed him, knocking him dazed and flinging him hard, concussed, into the rocky wall.

Still blind. The world fell away, the ringing in his ears muffling the shouting but really, he didn't even hear that; he was unaware as the body crushed his, ever-so-briefly, against the stone. He felt the crack of bones--his jaw, he thought, the mandibles shattering on impact with the canyon (and there went any last chance to insult Kalama as he died). There was no pain, in that instant, and then he felt himself falling--the sickening lurch of the sky falling away.

Imp had but a few seconds to come to, to force himself back to consciousness, to spread his wings and fly--or to plummet to the ground, bones shattered, with the Ice Worm to crash down and crush him into nothing.

Cold.

Fuck you, he thought, to no one in particular, the ferocity opening blind eyes. His jaw opened and fuck that hurt, the mangled "FEEYOOO-" that shouted out rather meaningless my mouth-

-and then his wings snapped wide, catching the air and beating, once, twice- and the bulk of the Ice Worm swept by beneath him, so close he felt the rush of icy wind from its passage.

Higher he rose, and higher, shouting.

"III OOO EE AAA?!" he demanded--of everyone, of no one--"III OOOE EH IAH OOR!" And then, wincing--"UHH!"

Ivory shook herself, blinking, pushing back up again.

She was shaking, now--she was fairly sure the worm had thrown her, on impact, a second time, and-

Virgil-! Her eyes, passing over the group, caught Virgil stumbling, thrown-...

She lurched into motion, a slow stagger breaking almost instantly into a full, snow-throwing gallop, her muscled neck shoving forward for the brief surge of momentum.

Hooves battered the rock, snow flailing up behind her, and she threw herself, as she drew close--threw her full weight forward, into Virgil--unsure if she'd make it in time, if she'd knock them both far enough-...

She shut her eyes at the last second, for the impact--turned her head--and felt the smash of bodies, the breathless theft of the air from her lungs, the thud of flesh and fur against muscle, bone-... She felt her legs go out from under her, felt herself airborne, if only briefly, felt Virgil, already unbalanced, thrown before her.

She felt the shuddering crash as the Ice Worm smashed down just where Virgil had been.

Ivory cowered, for a moment--trembling--and then pulled herself onto her chest, opening her eyes to blink around.

Blood in the snow. The worm's twitching body sinking against the rock. Gembound--some still, some in motion.

Snow, falling.

She let out another exhale--slow, shaking-... but it was an exhale. She was alive.

Ivory looked to Virgil, to confirm-... yes.

They were both alive. And Shida, too-... there Shida was.

They had survived--and she hoped that now, at last, it might be over.

Things were happening fast--very fast.

He'd found himself just agile enough to survive, and it was more than he could've hoped for. A gallop in. A dodge out. A rearing back, just at the right instant, to avoid foot-broad bristles crashing yards before him.

Things happened with such blinding speed that he couldn't quite, afterward, put them into their sequence. Someone cried out. Someone else shouted. There was falling, and ice. Silver-blue blood, and smoke, drifting down, and--someone crushed, falling, close by.

Blinking, Warrior turned and galloped for them, rushing straight in. He hoped that Oleander--wherever she was--was safe; but he had to try to help this one, now.

The drift of snow and rocks, and ice, was thick, but Warrior skidded to its edge nonetheless, pawing at it with his hooves--hoping that his magic would guide him to the one he'd seen trapped beneath.

His magic game strong, a sharp pulse of red in his vision, and he arrowed in, angling to it. Hooves swept away ice and rock, and he called out.

Can you hear me? Are you down there? Are you--alive?" They were alive--he knew that, he could sense it-... but would they be, for long? Were they conscious, even?

His magic powerfully guiding him, he swiftly excavated the former-and-current Champion of Hydra, knowing only that here was someone who needed his help.