I'd been here before, many times, in my dreams. But it wasn't a dream anymore. This time it was real. The armor sat heavy on my shoulders but I barely felt it now. I welcomed its presence. It saved me as I took the now expected hit to the chest from the distance, Bellanca still trying to kill me despite the massing armies below, while Max wheeled and dove to protect us from attack. The pressure of building power pushed against me from without while the wrongness expanded from within, squishing me between the two. The Wild Hunt flew all around us now, howling a steady, bone jarring squeeze of their own.
The heat of it burned through the metal and scorched my skin, bruising my damaged body, crushing my chest so tight I had to fight for breath. I forced my lungs to inflate out of sheer spite, screaming a soundless yell of defiance, voice already parched and cracking, failing me.
But I would not fail.