Work Text:
Screams reverberated in the air, the disturbing symphony undoing the usual tranquility the winds carried. Some were war cries of Pyronia’s fellow colleagues battling their enemies in the air and ground with fervor and desperation. Others are everyday people begging to see tomorrow. Pyronia didn’t know how to feel about her role in all this. She felt a wave of guilt for not warning them in time for everyone to evacuate sooner yet it crashed into soothing sands of relief that she at least got there in time for them to begin evacuation. Another part of her even harder to reconcile with was a storm of emotions. It was only a matter of time before the villains, or the Righteous Crusaders, as they called themselves, attacked the League of Heroes. Pyronia just never expected the betrayal that came with it.
A gold statue of one of League’s founders began to topple over after yet another explosion, and it was falling right atop of one of the powerless workers. Pyronia recognized him as one of their monitors, James. He always did his job eloquently. Never failing to catch when a hero was pushing themselves too hard in their training.
Pyronia wasted no time bursting into action. She used her fire as a booster to move as quickly as possible. The gold statue creaked as gravity pulled it down to crush James, it inched closer to him with every millisecond Pyronia took, mocking her with James’ fate as the shadow cast upon him grew darker and the statue grew closer. Pyronia strengthened the fire beneath her feet, pushing James out of the way at the last second before the statue crashed onto the ground.
James was trying to say something to her — maybe a thank you, or he was telling her how much more useful her fire powers would be if she delgated herself to fighting instead of saving — it didn’t matter. What mattered now was getting him and any other civilian to safety. Pyronia scooped him up in her arms and shot fire from her feet to fly him somewhere safe. The flight allowed her to see the full scope of destruction. It was even worse than she imagined. The ground below her mutilated from the blows it sustained from both sides of the battle. The scars of them travelled up buildings. Pyronia wondered if the founders regretted the placement of their base now. It seemed like such a good idea at the time. To hide it in plain sight, where they knew nothing the Crusaders would find valuable was located. But it seemed it was in vain. Her colleagues — friends — all battered and bruised yet still had undeniable determination in their eyes, one Pyronia shared and understood to her core. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, let another die.
She could still see the light leave her mentor’s eyes whenever she blinked. Still hear the last words he spoke to her.
“Don’t let this consume you.”
When she watched him go limp, emotions and fire overtook her. All that was left of her mentor afterwards had to be put in an urn.
All this because they all trusted one wrong person. The person closest to Pyronia. Who betrayed them all. Divulged their hidden base to the side of evil and let them rot. She focused on keeping her skin at a safe temperature.
As she scanned the crumbling buildings for anyone who needed help, she spotted Radiant Man clutching a bleeding wound on his abdomen. Pyronia sped down to him, willing to do whatever she could to help. Once she reached him, Radiant looked over to her, his usual glowing, even brilliant eyes now glassy and not quite seeing her. She hurriedly bent down to assess the damage. Radiant’s hand was already shaking from the effort it took to not go limp, and the blood was dripping down into a pool of it on the ground.
Pyronia knew they had already evacuated all medical staff from nearby. She could try to find someone with healing abilities, but the chances of doing so before Radiant bled out were too large.
The pool of blood reached her feet and stained her pants as she crouched down.
She knew what she had to do.
With a shaky breath, Pyronia put on a brave face and gently nudged him, "I'm going to have to cauterize the wound, ok?” Radiant barely seemed to register the words. Pyronia looked around, there was nothing for him to bite on, they’d just have to grit their teeth together and push through. She steadied herself and gingerly took Radiant’s bloody hand away from the gash. She did her best to wipe off the red obscuring where the wound was.
Pyronia placed three fingers on the beginning of the gap, closed her eyes, and remembered her training. The stress from what she was about to do turned the ends of her tied up hair into bits of flames like a match. She heard her mentor’s, Rift’s, voice guiding her.
“Burns are some of the easiest things to get infected. It has to be a last resort. Take a breath, control your heat. Focus on the feeling of each degree rising in your fingertips. Map it out in your head.”
Pyronia began cauterizing. The new surge of pain caused Radiant to scream in agony. Pyronia tried to force him to stay still, but could barely keep her hand near the gash when faced with his strength. She begged him to forgive her, hot tears streaming down her face and the smell of burning flesh wafted up to her nostrils. But finally, it was over. And Radiant went back to his state of barely conscious. Pyronia knew the next step would be difficult, but still underestimated Radiant’s weight as she began carrying him to safety. She couldn’t get very far, but at least they were out of no-man’s land. And she set him down behind a wall turned away from the main fight.
For a moment, Pyronia wished Dunamis was here. With her strong will, her flight, her super strength and her endurance. But those feelings were quickly blown away when the memories of the death she caused surfaced. When she remembered how broken she felt when she lost her to the Crusaders. When she lost Rift. Dunamis betrayed them, betrayed her. The thought alone was enough to heat her hands back to dangerous degrees.
“Pyronia!” a voice boomed behind her.
Speak of the fucking devil.
Pyronia turned, and was met with a muscular figure, with copper skin and a wolf cut that blew in the wind. Round eyes that once sparked joy in Pyronia now only filled her with rage and grief.
The world was still for a moment, holding its breath for the once allies’ meeting. The same two people that once sat down in the League of Heroes’ base, talking about what names they’d give themselves were now unrecognizable to one another. Beats passed, with a look of Dunamis’ face that Pyronia could not place, but it felt familiar to one she’s seen in the mirrors recently. Then, Dunamis lunged.
The impact of Dunamis’ punch was enough to send Pyronia flying across the air. She barely had time to use her fire to change her projection before slamming into a building. Even so, the pain in her ribs definitely indicated a fractured rib.
No time to think, Dunamis was already flying at breakneck speed towards her. Pyronia quickly made a wall of fire to stop Dunamis’ efforts. The change in wind alone was enough to know it worked. Pyronia enveloped her fist in fire as she burst through her makeshift wall to punch Dunamis, but she dodged it. Pynoia kept at it, conflicted on whether to aim for Dunamis’ heat resistant super suit or her uncovered face. It didn’t even matter in the end. Pyronia was never much of a fighter. Her flames were too dangerous, too volatile to use against someone. Any injury she inflicted with them was guaranteed to leave her opponent scarred. But Dunamis knew how to fight. How to control her hits and avoid incoming blows. Those two facts made clear when Dunamis ducked under a swing from Pyronia then sent her up into the air with a kick. Dunamis flew up to meet her, and Pyronia was forced to use her fire to fly yet again and got punched in the face while gaining her balance, blood spilling out Pyronia’s mouth the moment contact was made. Her burning hot skin burned Dunamis’ knuckles. Dunamis did not even flinch. Pyronia could not keep this up for long and they both knew it. But she still sent a blast of fire Dunamis’ way, which only managed to hit a billboard.
Another punch sent Pyronia crashing into a building. Her entire body trembled with the effort of just standing up.
“I know you can do more than this, Pyronia!” Dumanis said, her voice laced with a kind of determination Pyronia never heard from her before. “Show me what justice is!” her words shook with desperation.
She was right, Pyronia could do more. But at what cost?
No time to dwell on it, because Dumanis was yet again charging at her and Pyronia barely escaped the hit in time, the building behind her instead caving in to the strength of Dunamis’ fist.
Dunamis looked over, and both women stared into each other's eyes for what was only a second, but it held enough weight to feel like a lifetime.
Pyronia shot a blast of fire aimed at Dunamis’ suit, which did little to stop her. Dunamis balled her fists and a scowl came across her face as she went to tackle down Pyronia. The two tumbled down into the decorative grass next to concrete. Dunamis towered atop of Pyronia, her eyebrows furrowed and teeth baring. She spat,”What are you fighting for, Pyronia?”
“For those who can’t. For those who need me. For Radiant and James and…” the words felt heavy on Pyronia’s tongue, “and Rift.” Pyronia looked up, and realized Dunamis had stopped. A fleeting moment of hesitation holding her in place. Pyronia took the chance and let out a wave of heat that left Dunamis scrambling away in pain and the grass beneath her burned. Pyronia got up as fast as she could, heating up her fists.
Until she saw the destruction around her. How there was a crumbling wall where Dunamis had punched. The innocent civilians evacuated from the buildings they landed in.The smell of smoke from the now dead grass and burning billboard reminded Pyronia why she was saving the civilians in the first place. Her eyes darted to Dunamis, who was staggering up into a fighting stance. And she saw it in her eyes that she would not give up on her goal just yet.
Pyronia lowered her fists, and sparked harsh yet controlled flames on the soles of her feet and underneath her palms, flying away into the air, away from the people.
Dunamis immediately gave chase. Leaving cracks on the ground where she leapt. Pyronia dared a look back. And she saw Dunamis flying with unmatched speed. Herblack hair and cape billowing against the wind. Her flight was stiffer than Pyronia remembered, the muscles tenser, and faster. Pyronia strengthened her flames, doing her best to put more distance between herself and Dunamis. Dumanis was still closing in on her.
Pyronia hardened her gaze, as if she could fake strength she didn’t have. And stopped her fleeing. Instead changing her trajectory directly towards Dunamis. Letting go of the flames in her palms in favor of makeshift flame daggers, made of the weakest fire Pyronia could conjure up. Dunamis nearly crashed against her, not being able to change her flight trajectory in time. But stood firm, weaving away from the potential crash and swinging her daggers at a disoriented Dunamis. She hit her mark, leaving an angry burn across the back of her neck, Pyronia bit the inside of her cheek at the cries of pain. Fresh blood mingling with the old one from the punch.
A look of hurt flickered in Dunamis’ eyes for a moment, before being clouded by that new look of determination Pyronia would never get used to. Dunamis went to grab Pyronia’s arm, but Pyronia moved her legs right up Dunamis’ direction, flying away from her and forcing Dunamis to stop lest she get burned by the heat beneath Pyronia.
Pyronia shifted back to a standing position, ready to defend herself. She brought up a hand and in one swift movement conjured up a tunnel of fire right next to Dunamis, then had it aim for her.
Dunamis ducked, then sent herself crashing toward Pyronia; she tried to fly over Dunamis, but wasn’t quick enough. Dunamis gripped Pyronia’s arms and spun her before hurtling her towards the ground.
A stained glass window depicting the artistry of Jesus Christ shattered when Pyronia smashed into it. She stumbled to get up, dizzy and trying to ignore the glass shards digging into her skin. Pyronia looked around, trying to stabilize her vision. SHe saw no people, only tapestries and stained glass. Her hands gripped the wooden bench, causing a smell similar to incense to fill the air.
Pyronia barely had time to gather herself when Dunamis arrived, standing tall yet something holding her back. She thought, at one point, that she understood Dunamis. That she could read her like one of her favorite books she’d always come back to. But then Rift died, and she was left marred with paper cuts from pages she thought she knew.
Nevertheless, Pyronia forced her legs to straighten, but could not stop the shaking.
Dunamis grabbed a screwed down wooden bench next to her and ripped it off the floor and towards Pyronia who instinctively shot out a powerful blast, disintegrating the bench before it even got close to making contact. Once the flames dissipated, she saw Dunamis’ face, wearing a triumphant smirk. Like the ones she wore whenever she won one of their petty arguments. A lifetime ago, that was. Pyronia shot out another blast of fire that Dunamis simply sidestepped away from, leaving it to hit a love thy neighbor tapestry. The irony almost made Pyronia chuckle.
Dunamis pressed her feet up against the wall and lunged, leaving another wall battered in the process. Pyronia had enough sense to avoid the attack, instead leaving the wall behind her to take the brunt of it as Dunamis crashed through it into a graveyard.
Pyronia stepped through the threshold away from the church and into the land of the dead It seemed to be an older graveyard, with most graves dating back centuries. It was small as well, with one statue standing above it all.A figure standing proudly and armoured, the mask was two plates atop the other mimicking a tectonic plate the theme of symmetrical lines following down the whole statue. Rift. It seemed like he had another funeral here.
But that was all Pyronia could gather before a chunk of the wall was being sent towards her. It hit her square in the stomach and left her struggling on the grass trying not to throw up. The grass turned to ash in her hands. Pyronia pried the chunk a wall off her and forced herself upright. Another blast of fire left her hands. Angry and large, too large to escape with a sidestep. Dunamis was left attempting to cover her face with her arms, leaving her ear exposed to it.
Pyronia ignored the pang of guilt seeing Dunamis’ now red and scarred ears left her. Dunamis looked at her with a heavy breath and eyebrows furrowed. At one point, Pyronia could discern what Dunamis felt with just a glance. The two made their other teammates think they had telepathy with how they communicated off simple bits of eye contact alone. But now Pyronia could only beg for that. A hurt deeper than any physical wound clawed at Pyronia, igniting a fire within her she repeatedly stomped
down, inciting the last words Rift told her over and over. But the flames tickled her feet.
Dunamis grabbed the grave of Amelia… something. Pyronia couldn’t make it out before it was being turned into a weapon chucked at her.
Pyronia used a short burst of flames at her palms to dodge it quickly enough. She hated when Dunamis did that. She got too busy caught up in the fight to remember to care for the civilians and infrastructure. And now her ignorance is desecrating a graveyard.
“These people deserve to rest in peace, Dunamis!” Pyronia chided, “you don’t have the right to ruin their resting place like this.”
“It’s for a good cause,” Dunamis replied. Then grabbed another grave to throw at Pyronia. The slab hit her on her left shoulder. Pain bloomed up from the place of impact. A small experimental movement told her the injury was worth going to a medical wing later. She belatedly corrected herself to just whatever was left of the medical wing.
Pyronia weaved through the graves, trying to reach Dunamis before she could throw yet another person’s gravestone at her. She did have to duck away from one she couldn’t make out the name of and only knew the person was born two hundred years ago exactly. Happy birthday to them.
Her right fist was hot enough that no flames needed to be wrapped around it. She did her best to aim properly despite being left-handed.
Something flashed in Dunamis’ eyes when she noticed Pyronia’s bearings. Something all too similar to how she looked whenever Dunamis heard about the true damage her reckless fights caused civilians. Pyronia always went to comfort her in those moments. Dunamis blinked, and yet again Pyronia could not decipher her.
A punch in the gut sent Pyronia flying and hitting her back against her mentor’s statue. She swallowed down bile her body couldn’t contain anymore. She wished she could hug the statue right now, tell it how much she missed Rift, and seek comfort from it like a little kid whispering to their teddy bear. Instead she’s scrambling to crouch behind it. Hiding from the person a part of her wishes to hold as well. She wished Rift was actually here, she wished he could tell her how he believes in her while explaining his plan that sounded so much easier when he said it as he picked out some of the broken glass shards from her back because he feels like he needs to help somehow.
Pyronia knew she couldn’t hide for long, but she needed to buy some time, asses the damage, stabilize herself, maybe even get her fire in control before-
The wall crumbled. The weight against her side dissipated. But a shadow still loomed over her. And she looked back to see Dunamis. Ready to hurt her once more.
Before she could even get up, Dunamis was already kicking her up into the air, forcing the air out of her lungs and ending her desperate fantasies.
Right as Pyronia got a breath in, she felt a blunt kick to her side that sent her right back into the graveyard, smashing into a grave. Forcing Pyronia to throw flames into her palms to clumsily diverge her path and dragging against the dirt instead. Pain shot up from her back as the shards in it dug further into her skin. She heard herself cry, and realized steaming tears were running across her face.
Her vision wobbled with her body when she tried to get up. All she could bring herself to do was roll over to her front which gave her a sharp reminder of the fractured rib. She felt the ground shake from impact and dread grew within her knowing what that meant.
“Pyronia…” Dunamis called out to her, now from the ground again. Pyronia was in too much pain and too tired to understand why Dunamis sounded so sad. She couldn’t bring herself to care anymore. Dunamis’ voice hardened at her next words, “Get up, Pyronia.” Then, possibly, or maybe it was her mind trying to mesh this Dunamis with who she once called the closest person to her, a small, broken “Please.” was heard in Dunamis’ voice.
Pyronia ignored it, not trusting her mind and making note of a possible concussion.
Her vision finally refocused, though still blurred by boiling tears. And she saw the head of her mentor, broken off from the rest of the statue, it had cracks running up from his cheeks to his eyes. And she was brought back to that day that changed everything.
It was meant to be a simple mission involving a robbery of a jewelry store, more so training Dunamis and Pyronia on how to keep fragile infrastructure intact while fighting more than anything. But that’s not how things went. Dunamis was uncharacteristically quiet during it and kept glancing at Rift. And once the fighting began, she just stood there. Pyronia didn’t understand what was happening at the time, why Dunamis was acting strange. Why Lady Villiaumite looked so confident, sitting vicariously while draped in her black black tie suit save for her back and hips, which were left open but decorated in an array of red gems, her face covered up with a crimson masquerade mask and her hair tied in a bun adorned with more red gems. Nevertheless, she followed her mentor’s instructions and focused on the degrees concentrated at fists, constricting the passageway of her fire toa concentrated and controlled place. She geared up to help Rift, who was making strategic tremors on a marked area of the ground, but was sent tumbling back from a new, raging tremor, and the cracks began travelling up the walls of the store.
“Rift?” Pyronia tried. And received a choked noise in response.
The armor Rift wore was tightening around him and he crumbled to the floor, clawing at his throat. He peeled the lower part of his mask off, trying to get more air in but failing. Blood dribbled out of his mouth
“Trouble breathing?” Lady Villiaumite asked. The mirth in her voice was as present as the delighted giggle. “A poison of my own design, your entire armor is covered in it. Aw, but don’t worry too much. It may be excruciating now, but soon enough your lungs will be filled with too much blood for any breath, and the
asphyxiation will be like being lulled to sleep.” She strolled over to Rift. “Have you ever wondered why Villiaumite? It’s not just a play on the word that you all love to throw at people like me. In fact it is actually a gem. With a beautiful luster paired with a crimson red. Oh, and of course, it is toxic to humans.” Lady Villiaumite crouched down to his level, voice dropping low and without hurry, “Are you feeling it? The fluorine in your veins? Making its way through your nervous, cardio, and circulatory system? How it-” A blast of flame stopped Lady Villiaumite in her tracks.
“Get away from him,” Pyronia gritted out.
The upturn of Lady Villaumite’s lips said it all, but she continued her jeering nonetheless. “It is a shame I was not allowed to poison your suit as well. It would have been quite the show. I can only picture how a body such as yours would react to the poison.” Villaumite took a few deliberate steps towards Pyronia. “Would you just double over like any other human? Spit fire out? Burn yourself from the inside? Or perhaps…” her assertive smirk widened into a wild grin along with her eyes that shined a dangerous glee. “You’d set the entire world ablaze in your agony.”
Pyronia’s breathing quickened, she didn’t move, frozen during the entire speech. But finally, she melted away the invisible ice holding her back, and swung as Lady Villiaumite. Who gracefully shifted her head just enough to avoid it. Pyronia went for another swing-
A pained cry mixed with a wet cough stopped Pyronia in her tracks. She made a sash to Rift, still writhing in the floor, his moves lazier and lethargic.
“Rift-” The word tumbled out of Pyronia’s mouth before she could properly form a thought, just desperate to make Rift conscious again, as if, somehow, her words had the power to make all this okay.
“You can’t save him, I made sure of that” Lady Vililaumite’s voice cut through, confident and reposed like she was orchestrating the world’s greatest tragedy for all to watch.
A small pool of blood grew, reaching Pyronia’s feet. She turned her to try and conjure another blast at Villiaumite, only for her arm to be twisted over and the shot misfiring. She looked up to see that Dunamis had protected the villain. All the while having the audacity to plead for forgiveness with her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Pyronia whispered.
“I’m doing the right thing,” Dunamis replied, but her voice shook with uncertainty. Then she shattered Pyronia’s world by walking over to stand at the villain’s side, stepping over a crack made by Rift’s now erratic surges of power.
“Duna?” she implored, not believing what she’s seeing, trying to make sense of it by telling herself the steam in her vision must be obscuring a punch Dunamis is throwing.
But it wasn’t. Lady Villiaumite put a hand on Dunamis’ shoulder, a small gesture that broke Pyronia. Villiaumite had recomposed herself enough for one last speech. “Let this be a message to all members of the League of Heroes,” she spat out the name as if it was something too disgusting to pass her lips. “That the Righteous Crusaders have infiltrated your little hideout, and Rift is only the beginning.” With that, Dunamis and Lady Villiaumite left.
Pyronia tried desperately to make sense of it all, but her stuttering mind took a brief pause when she remembered who was still lying on the ground. Dying.
Pyronia nearly toppled over herself with how quickly she turned back to Rift; now lying still, with small, sporadic gasps forcing its way through his lips, but were often overtaken by bloody coughs that rattled Rift’s entire body.
Pyronia kneeled over him, assuring herself, “Rift, it’ll be okay, we can get you to the medics in time, okay? We-we’ll-” Rift lifted his hand to touch Pyronia’s cheek, his hand was shaky, the touch anything but firm, and his hand burned from how hot Pyronia’s skin was. Her boiling tears rolled down his arm.
He took his other hand and in a languid movement removed his mask. He looked ghostly pale, and the light in his eyes was already dimming. Pyronia’s tears turned to pure steam. She barely registered the familiar crackle of fire her hair was now making, her focus entirely on the dying man before her.
Rift shook his head while coughing up more blood and his arm became too weak to keep holding onto Pyronia’s cheek. He took too small a breath with all his might. “You-” another cough, “You’re gonna grieve. You’re gonna hurt. Your next steps forward… I- I won’t be with you. But you-” the sound of the coughs were drowned out by all the blood. “-you’re gonna take those steps anyway.”
Pyronia was shaking her head meekly, as if she could deny the truth in front of her. But Rift knew she couldn’t. He kept going.
“Your flames are so beautiful, Pyronia. And so powerful. But you… you can’t let them consume you,” he rasped, taking too long to get the words out, “Don’t let this consume you.”
Then he was gone.
And Pyronia was left with a broken statue of him in a graveyard, because he was betrayed by Dunamis. By the person who held her when the day was just too much. Who she had once shared her happiest moments, all marred now by her betrayal. And all that was left were the screams of those trying to escape the Crusaders and the blood on her knees.
The statue was as lifeless as Rift on that horrid day.
The glass shards on her back began to melt, the hair tie burned off as her hair fully rose into fire and the tears in her eyes fully turned to steam as her eyes glowed a bright orange.
Dunamis’ breath hitched when she witnessed the transformation. But before she could react, Pyronia let out a wave of heat that left any exposed skin on Dunamis red and angry. The graveyard smelled of ash and smoke. Pyronia ignited fire underneath her feet, the noise so loud it drowned out the crackle of the tree that had been set alight.
Dunamis always knew Pyronia was powerful. Pyronia had once told her she was tempted to fling herself into the sun just to see if it’d even tickle her. But she could never imagine Pyronia using so much of her power against her.
The blaze beneath feet was strong enough to let Pyronia slam Dunamis into the church wall. Her hand seared Dunamis’ neck, making it impossible to breathe.
Another heat wave was unleashed, disintegrating through the weaker parts of her suit. Fire began enveloping them both. Pain was all Dunamis’ body registered. Everything except for her.
“Brigid-” Dunamis choked out Pyronia’s real name.
Then she was gone.
Pyronia’s hair fell down, her tears returned to just boiling over as her eyes returned to their usual hazel. She sat surrounded by molten graves and burnt grass.
She clutched the cremated remains of a dead woman close to her heart and wailed.