Latevia dove out of the way, trying to dodge the hail of bullets flying toward her, but she wasn’t quick enough. She caught a few rounds into her body, eliciting a scream, making her hiss in pain. One soldier went to run back towards the building. Latevia pushed herself to chase after them, grabbing the officer by the leg. She poured in all her strength and twisted it the wrong way. The leg cracked and and popped until a loud snap reverberated, causing the soldier to shriek. 

Three more went after her, and began emptying their dominas into her body. At that moment, Vance came out of the building holding his domina, and fired at her attackers. Putting down two. The third one growled and ran at the man in a flash of inhuman speed, catching him off guard. The strigoi slapped his domina away, and tried to tackle him down.

But the big man wasn’t going down that easily. He tossed the strigoi soldier into the building and tried to wrestle him to the ground. He snapped his jaws at the large man, but Vance grabbed him by the neck, trying to keep the jaw far from his body. He struggled with the officer, trying to shake them off. 

Outside, Latevia grappled with the strigoi she grabbed. She took him by the hair and slammed his head to the ground, smashing his skull with a resounding splat, and ground it down on the pavement. She caught her breath, taking pained gasps. 

She hissed, trying to move her body. Then, the sound of a shot rang out.

Latevia let out a scream. Another shot. Then another. 

She slowly turned her head, eliciting pain as she moved her body. The Major was walking slowly toward her, holding a revolver. He fired again—the bullet embedding itself into her shoulder, making her scream. 

“You really have a fucking death wish, don’t you?!” he hissed, kicking her down. He then leaned in and grabbed her by the neck, squeezing hard as he tightened his grip, choking her. “I do say, you heal rather quickly. So killing you slowly will be very satisfying.”

“I don’t give a fuck! I’ll die for them if I have to!” 

“You could have just kept walking,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment. “But you just had to care so much about the humans. Fine, die with them.”

Latevia hissed, but grabbed hold of his arm, letting out a grin. “You forgot about something,” she scoffed. 

The realization suddenly struck the Crescent major, as the sky was already bright out. He tried to run, but Latevia grabbed on tightly to his arm, keeping him in place. “If I’ll die, then I better take you with me. This time, I’ll make sure you die.” 

“No! Let go, you bitch!” Javier hissed, trying to pull her grip away—but Latevia wasn’t letting go. She used all of her strength, digging her nails into his arm. The major tried to run, not caring whether or not the nun tore off his limb. This was an even bigger mistake.

 The duskwalker launched her broken body onto him, using their momentum to make them fall. She tackled him pavement, wrapping her limbs around Javier’s. She looped her arms over his, holding him in place, locking her legs on his torso. 

“I am prepared to meet the light of Sol, are you?!” she chuckled into his ear, using all her reserves to keep him from escaping her grasp. The sun was up, the light moving across the pavement. She closed her eyes and uttered a prayer, while her enemy screamed at the top of his lungs, demanding to be set free. He struggled and thrashed around, but the sister refused to let go. She inhaled deeply, and let out a long exhale. 

“Oh Sol, your light may be my bane, but allow me to invoke your power to slay this enemy of man,” she began. 

“Let me go! You fucking bitch! You damned Solite, release me!!”

“O’ venerable star, should I perish under your brightness, then it shall be a sacrifice most humble for your glorious rays. Protect your children, keep them safe from the creatures of the night, and may all mankind praise your golden blade. Smite thine enemies, and call upon Helena to aid this war! Veritas.” 

In a few moments, the screaming intensified, joined by her voice as well. 

The sun came up in the sky, and covered the city in its glorious light. It flooded the streets and shone into the windows and the cracks in the walls. Any caught in the open was bathed in glorious golden rays, and any unfortunate strigoi caught in it, crackled and burned, their skin popped and boiled with the sound of a searing hiss, turning it blackened and crisp.

Back inside the building, Vance was still wrestling with the Crescent officer. The sun was reaching inside the building through the open door, but they were far inside, enough for it to keep the soldier sheltered. His strength was beginning to wane, as gravity worked against him. The strigoi on top was bearing down with all his weight, while applying their superhuman strength. The adrenaline flowing through the larger man’s veins could only do so much. He grunted and screamed back at the soldier, doing whatever he could. 

Bang. 

Blood and brains splattered from the strigoi onto Vance’s face. He stared in horror and confusion at the headless body on top of him, quickly pushing it off. He turned to the side, looking at the direction of where the shot came from. 

There stood the young girl, shaking as she held a domina in her hands. 

“V-Vance… I-I killed the monster…”

Vance caught his breath and immediately went over to Camilla, taking the domina away from her. He knelt down and hugged her close, wiping away the tears forming in her eyes. “You did good, kid. You did good. The monsters are gone now. You can relax.”

“A-and miss Late..?” she squeaked, trying to calm herself. 

“Fuck!” Vance exclaimed, his eyes going wide. “You stay here, okay?” 

Camilla nodded, choking up and sniffling. Vance patted her shoulders before grabbing his domina and heading just outside the door. “Latevia?!” he called out, looking around. 

On the floor was a charred, dried body of a strigoi in a uniform… and beside it was a nun. She was in her garments—sitting down on the pavement—looking at her hands. Vance approached cautiously, tilting his head and calling out her name. 

“Latevia?”

The person on the floor twitched at the mention of her name, slowly turning around to look at the man who called. Not a burn, a bruise, or a blemish was on her face. There were no signs of boils or bubbling, or exposed flesh. No searing marks, no dryness, no screaming pain. Untouched. She simply looked at him in disbelief. 

“I’m alive…”