Nissa - Cuts and punches apart automata

"This is Ghirapur. Don't bring mud to a bot fight."

A wave of metal heaves up behind him and floods the roof. Brass wheels and steel legs, flame jet nozzles and sparking antennae.

"Find peace," Nissa murmurs, her hand a warmth passing across my shoulders, there and gone.

Then she's midair, stabbing a thin blade through the optics of one automaton, rolling, jabbing an elbow into another, crunching a third with the heel of her hiking boot, slashing, jabbing. A windborne blossom of singing green steel and hard, sure muscle. Like she'd only been touching the ground as a courtesy.

Wait.

Hold up.

This is crazy.

Nissa has a sword?

***

BURN