Just a bare second behind the others, Lloyd appeared on the warp pad, barely holding back the urge to gag at the overwhelming stench of death. He wasn't used to death - never would be, even if he'd had to deal with it before - but this was-
He didn't get the chance to finish the thought, or even brace himself for the cat's lunge, before something slammed into him, through him. He gasped, nearly losing his balance, when power, foreign and familiar and raw and unexpected, roared through him with the force of a river crashing through a broken dam.
But it wasn't just that. Maybe if it had just been strength, he could have held, but it was strength and sound and a burning pain in his hand that up until now had been nearly numb, surging up through his arm, through his body, across his back, strangling his gasp and building up into something, and everything was too loud too bright TOO LOUD, with monsters' claws clicking on cold floors down the hall and screams from throats that could be human or could be animal, light catching on surfaces a million different ways, from shiny metal to dull dirty fur, and footsteps that sounded like thunder in his ears-
-and then a gunshot rang out, almost deafening him. Lloyd fell to his knees, clutching his ears with a cry, the clatter of his own weapons hitting the ground adding their own agony. He squeezed his eyes shut against the light - too much light! - and blessedly missed being blinded. He was too preoccupied to be thankful, though, the burning feeling of mana in his back building, surging, racing until it was more than he could bear. Another cry escaped.
And then something released. Castiel's light faded (and with it an odd almost awareness of it that Lloyd couldn't begin to describe), but in its place, the room was still lit up with a soft, blue-green light - a light that matched the color of the two broad wings spreading out from behind Lloyd's back.
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He didn't get the chance to finish the thought, or even brace himself for the cat's lunge, before something slammed into him, through him. He gasped, nearly losing his balance, when power, foreign and familiar and raw and unexpected, roared through him with the force of a river crashing through a broken dam.
But it wasn't just that. Maybe if it had just been strength, he could have held, but it was strength and sound and a burning pain in his hand that up until now had been nearly numb, surging up through his arm, through his body, across his back, strangling his gasp and building up into something, and everything was too loud too bright TOO LOUD, with monsters' claws clicking on cold floors down the hall and screams from throats that could be human or could be animal, light catching on surfaces a million different ways, from shiny metal to dull dirty fur, and footsteps that sounded like thunder in his ears-
-and then a gunshot rang out, almost deafening him. Lloyd fell to his knees, clutching his ears with a cry, the clatter of his own weapons hitting the ground adding their own agony. He squeezed his eyes shut against the light - too much light! - and blessedly missed being blinded. He was too preoccupied to be thankful, though, the burning feeling of mana in his back building, surging, racing until it was more than he could bear. Another cry escaped.
And then something released. Castiel's light faded (and with it an odd almost awareness of it that Lloyd couldn't begin to describe), but in its place, the room was still lit up with a soft, blue-green light - a light that matched the color of the two broad wings spreading out from behind Lloyd's back.