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With his shield up there was little else Ziggy could do. The chained lightning from his gridboy ceased as his concentration shifted to protecting himself and Pixel. Pyke shook out his right hand as his muscles came back under his control, but his focus was still on Ziggy himself.
"Lightning works!?" Ziggy yelled, trying to step back as Pyke started to move towards him and colliding with the dining table. The shield worked against magic but there was no saying Pyke couldn't just reach through it and grab him—
A sharp crack rent the air and Pyke was spun by the impact, blood spattering from his arm.
"Bullets work too," Ophelia said, already chambering another round, "Gods, Pyke, stop, please stop…"
The eyes were wrong. The eyes were wrong. He stared blankly at her, left arm now hanging strangely, as though it was too long, dark streaks of freely flowing blood sopping through the close-fitting suit, and his eyes were wrong. Yellow but not golden yellow. Darker. Redder. She held their gaze, trying to see if Pyke was still behind them, or at least maintaining his interest, keeping him stationary for long enough for Ko—
A raizo's fist was a formidable weapon on its worst day, and Ko was having an extremely bad day. Pix was down and Ziggy was rightfully retreating, but he had helped her learn something important.
Lightning came with her, lashing at the side of Pyke's head as Ko's fist landed with a slam, not enough to bowl him over somehow, but enough to make him stagger.
"Gimme that fucking mask," she yelled, bringing her other hand round to grip at the underside and wrenching upwards, whipping Pyke's chin up with it. He moved with the flow, left arm useless but swinging his right arm up as his shoulders went backwards, pointing towards Ko as he slipped out of her clutches and fired.
It went wide, but Ko yelped as the heat seared past her cheek on its way to put another hole in the thick aetherglass of the bridge, the sudden ingress of nothing briefly whipping all sound away until the shield kicked in to patch it over.
But bringing the gauntlet up to Ko's height also meant it was within Ko's range, and she grabbed it.
"Gotcha, ya little fuck—"
Training with Pyke had been a nightmare. Keeping up was one thing, catching him was like trying to stop the wind blowing. But all she needed was a touch, to tune the lightning just right, to make it pass into him and not through, to send it hot and sharp and heavy.
"Ophelia!" Rett shouted behind her, and Ko swung Pyke's body to the side to give her a clear line of fire. He was still resisting, face unreadable even as his right arm curled up against his own will, as Ko's lightning rippled through him. Another crack rang out from Ophelia's rifle and Pyke twisted at the hip, finally putting a knee to the ground. Ko swung him forward, one hand gripping the gauntlet, meltingly hot, and the other on the back of his head.
"Stay down," she spat, "stay down, you might live."
He still struggled between bolts of energy, refusing to go prone, still maneuvering his right hand to aim, trying to shoot as Rett moved towards him. Striding, not running. There would be an ending.
"Ko, stop his arm. Anyhow."
"Right," Ko said, and threw one leg before him, dragging Pyke back, her knee across his neck as she threw them both onto the ground. Strength was not an issue, she could collapse Pyke like a deck chair most days. All she needed was the right grip, the right leverage, and—
The position brought the gauntlet up in line with her face and for one terrifying second she was staring down the line of a little pink sun at the tip of Pyke's finger, to the hollow, dark eyes between the helmet and the mask, and then there was a horrendous bang as she dislocated his shoulder and he twisted with the pain. She shocked him again and again, til he squirmed less and less, until he was only staring at her, not moving at all.
He made no noise. Not a peep.
"You good?" Rett said, moving forward to put his considerable weight on Pyke's knees, arresting any attempt to get up. At Ko's nod, he signalled for Ophelia to approach, too.
"Can y'get his mask off?"
"Here," Ophelia said, reaching up behind Pyke's ear and unclipping something. "Same on the other side."
Rett copied her movement, cybernetics finding a lever-clip and raising it. The helm fell away, but the expected mane of starlit hair was gone. Buzzed down, there was nothing there but half an inch of barely cared for magenta. There was still no expression, no movement behind Pyke's eyes as he fixed them on Rett.
The mask lifted easily now, lightweight carbon fibre and titanium plate. With it went whatever instructions Pyke might have been hearing, whatever neuroactive gas he might have been breathing. It lifted and was thrown aside, and Rett looked down at what was left of Pyke Starfall.
Teeth, yes. Metal. Lips gone, cheeks opened out too far. Cords of woven wire simulating ligaments and muscle, bone replaced with shining steel, blackness where even bloody red would have been a positive sign. No need for a voicebox. The Silent had no words to speak. They had taken Pyke away, and had perfected him.
Rett dropped all of his weight onto Pyke's chest, hearing not a breath from the body beneath him, seeing no recognition in eyes that were so, so wrong.
"Step away, Ko."
"You got this?"
"I got this. You too, Ophelia."
The wet gasp Ophelia made as she moved away was echoed all too readily in his own heart. There would be time for sentiment after, for now he must make sure they survived for long enough to mourn. He checked his pistol with practiced ease, made sure there was a good round, ready to fire.
"If he's in there, he'll come back. But better pray anyway."
The pop of the pistol was far too small, far too quiet for the damage that it did. Rett stood, stepping backwards, weapon still aimed, hoping any moment to see a burst of light, a rising phoenix,
and he waited,
and waited,
and waited.