Page 160 of Psycho Gods

His jagged scar pulled tight as he frowned.

He stared at me.

“Keep up the good work,” he mouthed silently.

I nodded back and tried to appear stronger than I was.

The witches hummed louder, their voices dropping to an eerily deep octave that no other creature could replicate.

Lyla spun a ball of energy between her hands.

The glow emanating off her intensified.

The High Court had returned to help us mourn. At least, that was the excuse they’d given when they RJE’d into the camp after we’d given our progress update on the last battle.

Sharp light blinded my corneas as another camera flashed.

They’d brought journalists with them from across the realms.

The funeral was a PR stunt.

Branches clattered in the frozen wind.

An enchanted broadcasting stone hovered high above our heads. Dick stooped like he was overcome with grief.

My stomach churned at his fake display.

He didn’t care about soldiers.

The High Court only cared about themselves. They cared about their image and how the public perceived them.

The witches hummed. A camera shuttered and dots danced in my vision.

Snow fell softly, and the steaming dirt created the illusion of fog. The setting sun cast the pines in ominous shadows.

Lyla waved her arms and spun. Her green hair defied gravity as it lifted around her head, and the energy of the universe strummed around her in a display meant to inspire the viewers across the realms.

It was disturbing.

A witch hit a high note, and another hummed baritone. The sounds coalesced. Another camera flashed.

Fifty-nine soldiers stood behind me in the forest, as Lyla performed a silent funeral ceremony for the deceased.

Fifty-nine. An iniquitous number, indivisible by anything but itself and one.

It was an abomination.

We’d started the second battle with eighty-three soldiers. The strategy had been the same. To limit casualties, only the strongest had fought within the settlement, and the rest of the soldiers had secured the perimeter.

There’d been no deaths among the academy, shifter, angel, and assassin legions. Twenty of us had entered the infected settlement, and twenty of us had emerged.

We’d been unaware that dozens of ungodly were flooding out of a back entrance and trying to escape into the mountains.

Three leviathans and one devil had perished, which left only one person left from each of their legions. Both men were inconsolable. They weren’t the only ones.

Nineteen other soldiers had died holding the perimeter.

They’d given their lives and successfully stopped the ungodly from disappearing into the mountains. It was a small consolation.