Blood on the Asphalt biker
Here, twenty meters was approximately forever.
Mia moved low and fast, Dax half a step behind her and to the right. The red pulses from the spire washed over them in waves, each one pressing harder against her skull than the last. Her vision was fine. Her hearing was fine. But at the periphery of her thoughts, things were beginning to slip slightly, names misfiling themselves, sequences taking a moment longer to assemble. She had warned them about neurological interference. She had not mentioned that it felt quite so personal, as though the Archon's machine was not suppressing thought in general but was specifically, surgically reaching into the part of her that knew how to be Mia Chen and i