There had to be something Genevieve could do to help her, but she couldn’t think of what. She looked around the stage desperately, but there was nothing–Cornelius ran off with his sword, of course, and even if she had a blade…

Then she noticed the small, crumpled automaton in the regal uniform, and the slight, faint, but deeply familiar shimmer coming off of it. A tiny, almost imperceptible trace of magic leaking from the hole the devil girl’s bullet had blown through it.

Genevieve knew what that must mean. It was almost a relief nothing had been released from the other ones. But she didn’t have time to dwell on that. She ran to the downed machine and scooped the little shred of energy it had into her fingers.

Genevieve hadn’t been given much chance to exercise this muscle since she was sent to Gryst, three whole months ago. And even with a bit of magic, the barren earth didn’t give her a lot to use it on. But she could at least stop the ringing in her ears. Undoing minor physical inconveniences was the first thing anyone learned to use magic for. So she channeled a piece of that tiny spark of life into her ears, restoring her hearing with a loud pop. Suddenly she could hear the clashing of swords and the devil girl’s exertions as she dodged between them. But just as she channeled a little bit more, to protect her ears from the rest of the explosions that were sure to come, she heard something else–the clanking of metal, loud and fast behind her.

She had no time to think. She threw herself to the side, feeling that little bit of magic she recovered slipping out of her fingers to be sucked back into the starving earth. The armored fist of an automaton crashed into the wreckage of its former captain, smashing what was left of it into pieces.

The guard turned to loom over Genevieve. She was helplessly trapped in the thick layers of her own dress, and flailing about trying to get to her feet only made things worse. She yelped in fear and frustration, backing up towards the edge of the stage. Falling to the ground was the only escape she could think of. But the automaton was on top of her, and there was no way she could throw herself off before she was grabbed.

Her cries caught the devil girl's attention. She glanced in Genevieve’s direction, but she didn't let herself get caught off guard. She slid under an automaton's sword strike, and then jumped right at the machine's armored chest. Her feet came up and she planted them on its plated chassis, digging her clawed toes in with a metallic crunch. The force of the impact didn't move the automaton in the slightest. It didn’t have to. With all the strength she could muster, she kicked off its chest and launched herself up and over the melee she was caught in.

One of the guards swung at her while she jumped over it. She twisted out of the way, but it managed to catch her in the shin and she went tumbling. Her head banged against the automaton's helmet and knocked it off completely. It clattered to the ground and so did she, smacking into the wooden platform with a hard, ugly thud.

Genevieve could see her out the corner of her eye, past the automaton reaching its hand out to grab her neck. Crashing into the ground didn't slow her down. Teeth gritted and eyes focused, she raised her gun and fired. Bang.

The bullet punched a hole clean through the automaton’s chest. Genevieve could see clearly the strange, gently glimmering web of metal threads and geometric shapes inside the machine. A light inside it flickered red for a brief moment before dimming completely. And the guard went down–with Genevieve underneath it. Its heavy metal body collapsed on top of her, leaving her to struggle and wriggle her way out from underneath it.

"Agh," she grunted while she jerked her arms free. "Damn it, damn it, damn it…"

"Sorry!" the devil girl exclaimed. The automaton she had jumped over loomed behind her, sword raised for a killing blow, until she leaned to the side, bent her arm behind her head, and fired a shot behind her through its chest. "Sorry," she repeated. "I'll help you out, I will, just lemme–"

She vaulted forward, narrowly avoiding a leaping plunge directed at her spine, and rolled onto her feet. She twisted around on her ankle and fired off a quick shot through her attacker's middle.

But there wasn't even a moment's respite. Another guard leapt over its fallen comrade and charged at her with a fast, lunging stab. The demon girl simply jumped over it, like a practiced runner leaping over a hurdle, to land perched on one foot atop the flat of the broad, thick blade.

Before the automaton could shake her off, she stepped forward with her other foot and sprung into a flip. Guns raised, cloak flowing behind her, and tail whipping through the air, she soared over the automaton and put two more bullets in two more guards that were waiting behind it. Then the momentum of the flip pulled her head forward and down, under her heels, and she fired one more shot into the back of her mechanical springboard. Her feet hit the ground just a second before three automatons did, one after the other in rapid succession.

Only one guard was left, and it wasn't programmed to back down. But now the tables were fully turned, and the devil girl was in her element. The last guard swung at her once, twice, three times, a flurry of quick, devastating strikes, but she slipped past each one with easy, fluid steps. Finding no success, the automaton reeled back for one more decisive blow, striking down diagonally to slice through as wide an area as it could.

The girl leaned to the side and raised her arm. The blade sailed a fraction of an inch past her head. It scraped briefly against her armguard. And then the barrel of her gun was pressed against the automaton's chest.

She pulled the trigger and one last blam rang out, echoing across the chapel grounds. Genevieve, feeling her small bit of magical protection fade, pressed her hands to her ears so they wouldn’t get blown out again. The last automaton crashed to the ground, and a long, still silence fell over the altar.