[???]
Nestled deep within the reinforced cockpit of the. Alpha unit Anuran sat, her fingers loosely resting upon the controls, her back reclined. A smirk tugged at her lips as she peered through the panoramic display before her.
There, framed by the glow of digital targeting vitals data, was the slowly stirring form of Fiona, collapsed in rubble. Her body trembled as she forced herself upright, drenched in her own blood, light still burning feebly within her gaze.
Anuran tilted her head ever so slightly, observing her prey with fascination, as though she were admiring the final, twitching moments of an insect she'd just pinned beneath her heel.
"How beautiful..." she murmured aloud. "They always look so very, very pretty when they're right on the edge… when the fire hasn't quite gone out, but the body—ah, the body—knows it's already lost."
It was a scene she had witnessed countless times before. A cycle. One that repeated with excruciating reliability, as inevitable as sunrise.
