Lyra ducked, weaved, and barely managed to sidestep the Peculiars' attacks that came at her from every angle.
Her senses stayed razor-sharp, but a moment's slip allowed her enemies to use his ability.
Suddenly, Lyra's abilities felt like they'd been scrambled, thrown into chaotic new configurations that threatened to upend her strategy.
Gritting her teeth, Lyra surged forward. She funneled her psychokinesis into Schedar, which morphed into a colossal protective sphere around her. But that ability was unlike anything she'd dealt with before—it was absolute chaos.
"She's every bit as dangerous as Lord Westros warned," murmured the young man, his hands glinting with light as he focused.
A peppy voice piped through his earpiece, "Relax, Skylight! Together, we've got her on the ropes!"
"Stay alert," Skylight cautioned, his gaze steady on Lyra. "We're supposed to keep her here, not kill her. If we do, Lord Westros will lose his mind."
