"How long will I exist? Will I ever find those I love, those I miss? You may try to cage my soul, take my will. but on midnight wings I'll live every thrill!"
Hayley panted, sweat dripping from her forehead as her fingers worked her guitar. Around her, her companions efforts had reached similar levels of exertion. The guitarist, Jess, bit her tongue as she tore along, her body pulsing in time to her bass's beat.
Around them, the crowd's excitement had grown exponentially. All were standing, the tables had all been abandoned for the crowed cafeteria floor, dinner lay forgotten.
Winnie smirked down upon them. Things were almost ready. If those dunderheads could just buy a little more time, they would be successful.
Mike stopped backing up, his back suddenly pressed up against the cafeteria's wall. His gun clicked, he was empty.
His eyes widened, face frozen as a deer in the headlights. He was only able to watch as his doom glided closer to him, stepping onto the cafeteria pavilion with determined pace.
I have to do something, he thought furiously. Maybe, if I rush her-"
"Hey man! Sorry we're late!" came a cry. Harry, Richie the fifth, Emmanuel, and Luke came sprinting around the corner of the buildings.
"Aw, she went for the weakest link!" Emmanuel snorted dismissively, as they fanned out around Angel, eyes set as they took aim.
"This ends here! Ready guys?" Harry called.
"Guardskill: Distortion," Mike faintly heard Angel murmur.
"Go!" Richie roared, blasting his shotgun.
A storm of bullets tore through the air, Mike watched in horror as they collided.
-And missed. All of them. As the Battlefront continued to fire, Mike noticed that the air around Angel appeared to be shaking, as if it was undertaking the force of the shots.
A loud ping from above announced the arrival of Elly's sniper rifle, but the shot simply glanced off Angel's curious shield like all the rest. Angel, whose advance had been halted in the assault, continued to stare at her attackers.
A twirling object suddenly hurtled toward angel, but with a flick of her blade, it was sent spinning off into the darkness.
Jake gazed after his halberd in extreme frustration.
There was a lull in the blasts, and, Mike noticed with horror, Angel quickly began to advance once more. There was a glint. Hannah sprung up out of nowhere, her onrush utterly silent as she flew at Angel, knives shining.
But Angels somehow knew the danger. At the last possible moment, she spun, her blade sending a violent parry into Hannah, who took the blow and quickly spun to the ground beside Angel, sparks flying as the two rained blows one each other. Hannah's face, usually expressionless, was flushed with determination.
"Hannah!" someone yelled in warning. Instantly, she sprung away from her opponent, just in time to avoid the sudden renewed wave of munitions, bearing down onto Angel like a rockslide.
But she endured it, the curious ability still sending the missiles flying off in all directions around her. And, as if fighting against much momentum, she began to advance.
So this is what they have to deal with, Mike realized shakily. How can they hope to fight her, if she really does have divine powers?"
"We can't mess up this mission!" Harry yelled, worry evident in his cry.
"We won't get any food!" Luke added, worry very evident.
The notion seemed to send a wave throughout the battling members.
"No food?" Richie the fifth contemplated, face turning apple green. "Inconceivable!"
With a roar, the judo expert pulled a large object from its harness around his back.
"Eat this!" he cried, and ignited the rocket.
The air around them imploded as the explosion blew them backward, all music from inside momentarily blocked, replaced by a ringing in their ears as they struggled to their feat.
Angel stood in the bottom of a crater, the only evidence of the conflagration she'd endured a small flame burning on hem of her shirt.
"Nuts! This chick drives me crazy!" Emmanuel spat, as they resumed their barrage.
"And I hear the crows overhead. I just laugh, because I'm… not… Dead!"
Winnie felt a buzz on her intercom.
"The concert has reaches its peak," came Bridget's calm voice. "The crowd is at the pinnacle of distraction."
Winnie grinned, her smirk a white slash in the flashing dark of the cafeteria's darkness. She looked down at the writhing masses below her. "Excellent. Good work, everybody. Tell them to turn them on."
At her command, there was a series of clanks from the main floor, largely covered up by the pounding music. The clanks became roars as the series of air conditioning fans positioned by their members all around the room's perimeter roared to life. Tornado-worthy winds spiraled all throughout the cafeteria.
Hair flowing, few of the concert-goers even noticed. They continued to move in time to the rocking music. As the wind kicked up, objects began to slide.
As Winnie watched, gleeful, the lunch money left on the tables, peeking out of pockets, and clenched in the student's fists, was ripped away from their blissfully unaware persons. The currency was sent spiraling up into the air. Some it flew up to the roof and some sailed out the skylight.
Mike looked up, disbelieving. It was snowing, a rain of fluttering pale bank notes spun down all around him, slitting past his wide-eyed face. Holding up a hand, he gently took one out of the air.
At the appearance of the food money, the guns shut off immediately. Grabbing the few twenties that they'd need, everyone ran back from their opponent.
"Here, this'll do you," Harry said, dumping a pile of crumpled bills onto Mike. "Now let's go!"
As they fled from the cafeteria, Mike looked back.
Angel stood watching them go, silent.