"I can probably stumble. Help me up." It's phrased as an order, but there's the hint of a question, a request. The world feels a little scrambled right now.

She complies, nice and careful, crawling under her handler's shoulder, human crutch. Hopefully blood pressure isn't too much trouble.

Everything is great now! She feels so light!

She sags and passes out seconds later.

Oh no. It turns out angel tears aren't very good at restoring blood volume once the wounds close. There's another trick for that one, and it's not as pretty.

There's no need for a knife or needle. The operation is simple, and an angel's teeth are sharp enough for it. Bite the index finger and offer what flows from it to the patient.

(The blood shines in the dark because it reflects the Light.)

"Sharp teeth! Why do you even need those if you don't eat..."

To hold things in her mouth. To savor them.

"...To help. Please open your mouth."

"You're really weird." She complies though, shutting her eyes.

She does feel a bit weird. There's something tingling that isn't like when she did it in the trainings, or... or before.

It might feel nice, actually. She isn't sure. The blood flows just the same.

Wine has never been so fine, savory and decadent. It makes one crave a bit of bread, too.

It tastes like saffron and woodsmoke and leaves her giddy, the sound of a choir ringing in some sense beyond hearing. There's a bit more color in her cheeks now.

This is usually a little bit more... sober. She feels an odd urge to put her whole finger inside Electra's mouth and suppresses it. Must be the brain damage.

It's holy to share. Don't you want to contribute to a feast? Part with yours and savor-

There's a loud bang and a blinding flash of holy light, an instant of deafening choir and Light that hurts Niki more than it should have, but there's no time to think. Two guardian angels appear at the threshold of the stairs, sans operators, baring their wings, kinetic and coruscant, pointing beams of light around the room. Shock and awe, textbook room clearance. After clearing out each corner of the room, one of the angels approaches the pair.

"Status!"

It's directed at the handler.

They say that in times of crisis, you don't rise to the occasion, you fall to the level of your training. Luckily, her training is very good. She does have a finger in her mouth though, and it takes her a second to back up enough to respond.

"Mission unsuccessful. Target escaped with the aid of an unknown third party. Asset is damaged, requesting assistance returning to infirmary."

The angel turns to Niki, pity on its lips. "Damaged how? Did it spill too much blood? Is it critical?"

She looks down at the ground.

"They didn't teach me much angel anatomy, but I imagine that having one's head blown open is bad."

The angel grasps Niki's skull and inspects it, which she yields to. Some blood staining the back of her head, mixed up with something disconcerting. Turn, turn, turn, until they look into her eyes.

She smiles slightly. An angel's body belongs to another; there's no need for a boundary between self and other, not between the siblings of the light.

But the angel frowns.

"Something's wrong. Let go of her."

She doesn't let go right away. Something's wrong on her end, too, like reaching for the hand of a parent and being slapped away. To her, that's dreamlike. Impossible.

"What- what do you-"

She steps between the angels and her asset. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

The two angels form an L around them, standard procedure to control a subject for capture. They're still for a moment, as if waiting for something--likely radio guidance.

The closer one grasps Electra and pulls-

"No!"

Niki goes coruscant and bathes the basement in light, something fiery, orange, not quite golden. She pulls Electra behind her and spreads her wings.

Mine.

As she's yanked from the guardian's grasp, her shoulder wrenches. She scrabbles at her sleeve, desperately trying to unbuckle the sheath it's holding onto. It detaches with a clatter against too-hard hands, and she tumbles backwards. Niki's fingers have definitely left bruises on her arm. She closes her eyes and prays, hoping that one of the guardians back at base has an answer here.