Needle and Thread

The Flash

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"Vote?" Lyra suggested.

"I'd be A-OK with dying if it means these pricks get it," Roxy spat, "but you guys don't deserve to die. So... helping, I guess."

"Same," Benny said.

Winter nodded.

"Great! None of us want all of us to die," Lyra said, then frowned. She looked at her friends and said, "I've really gotta look up some therapy stuff for us when we get home."

Therasdfpy isn't importasdfnt right now. We need to find Anar or asdfll is lost. He wasdf with the only one of us who got to learn how to kill these things.

"And who might that be?"

She speasdfks in itasdflics. You'll know when you see them.

Suddenly, the giant girl tensed.

They're coming.

She bounded down one of the side roads, then turned to look back at the group, who had just pulled out a variety of weapons and were stretching.

Whasdft the HELL asdfre you doing. You don't even know how to kill them!

Then, the group looked up just in time to see them. Lyra let out a little scream. "They're real?"

Roxy cursed-- the second time today, which was a rare thing-- and Benny gulped audibly.

"I didn't see this," he said. "I didn't see this, I didn't see this..."

"Calm down," Winter said. He looked as though he were about to sneeze from holding his eyes open.

Two weeping angels stood at the end of the street.

"Nobody else blink, I'm gonna blink," Lyra said. Then, "Okay, I'm done. Anybody else wanna try?"

Winter pulled out a spear and threw it at the weeping angels. It broke on contact.

"Nice try, at least," Roxy said. "Can I try?"

Nothing worked. Not even Roxy's Infinity magic worked. And eventually, more angels arrived. There was an army of them. The four found themselves standing back to back, staring at the angels' feet.

"We might be in a little deep here," Lyra said, as she summoned John. "Okay. I'mma get us out of here."

As John flew them away, Lyra looked down and saw something she'd never forget. The angels had swarmed where her friends had once stood, and all had turned towards them like a field of sunflowers towards the sun.

"What were those things?" John asked.

"Nothing you'll meet," Lyra said. "I hope. Thanks, friend." She sent him home, leaving them standing on a golden rooftop.

"Okay," Lyra said. "John said he saw some people down below. Let's go see if it's Anar."

They dropped off the building, barely feeling the crunch of broken bone before their legs reassembled.

"Yo!" Lyra shouted. "Anar!"

It's pronounced Anar.

A boy stepped from the shadows. He was bruised and bleeding golden blood in several places, but still very handsome. He was shorter than the first Ancient they'd met, but still taller than Lyra. He had black hair and darkish skin. He could've passed for Indian if his blood wasn't glowing gold. Scar tissue was massed around his neck.

"Okay, well, I don't know how to make my voice do the bold thing," Lyra said. "Where's the italics girl?

Oh, her? She's here. Somewhere. I don't remember. I see her dead. I see everyone dead. You're alive. Why. Why are you alive when the Ancients are dead new generation newgenerationsorry. Visions. She is dead. Or will be.