Woosh!
A massive shadow blotted out the night sky as the aircraft came into view, wings glinting like a disco ball on steroids. And then—oh yes, then—the shadow dove. Hard.
And the aircraft? Totally obliterated in one fell, glorious swoop.
"WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK WAS THAT?! NO! MY RIDE! HOW—"
The rogue screamed, his bravado evaporating faster than ice cream in a desert. Panic plastered itself all over his face as his precious escape plan went up in literal smoke.
I leaned back, smirking. Macaron had done his thing—sending the rogue's hopes plummeting along with his very expensive vehicle.
"Now, what did you say to me again?" I asked, voice calm enough to make it sound like I was asking him about the weather instead of the apocalypse.
The rogue gawked at me, sweat pouring like a leaky faucet. "Ah… uhm… can we talk about this? I… I don't think I said anything… It was just… my anger talking—" He tried to step back. Bad idea. Very bad.
