The hair on Harley's white skin prickles with the energy, as that boiling light swirls around Azwel, and around her... as she continues to push him into a large gathering of Fallen. Some of the creatures are attacking her... him... she grits her teeth and ignores the attacks that connect. The cuts that draw blood. The sensation of pain.

This is one of those situations that was never planned for. Who would have thought that they would have to fight one of their own. Potentially sacrifice one of their own.

Harley briefly wonders who else among them would be able to do what she is doing right now... guiding an unconscious Azwel right into a mass of Fallen. Who else would try to channel the chaotic energy surrounding their ally... into a weapon of mass destruction.

"I know you can't hear me right now. But if you don't make it, Azwel. You died a warrior. I know you would have liked that."

"You are going to get rid as many of these Fallen as possible, and make a nice big hole for our convoy to get through."

"And I won't leave your side until the end. You won't be alone. I promise."