Kara dangled by the tangled grappling line, the tendril thrashing wildly around her leg, its grip crushing as the chasm wall crumbled, raining molten debris. The OmniCorp chopper's wreckage spiraled downward, its cannon's detonation sending a fireball roaring toward her, the heat blistering her already charred skin. Her dislocated shoulders screamed with every twitch, the shrapnel in her thigh pulsing with agony, blood pooling in her boot. The masked leader's faint shout, "Pull!" was lost in the chasm's deafening roar, the grappling line fraying under the tendril's relentless tug-of-war, threatening to snap at any second.
The fireball closed in, its edge licking at her feet, the stench of burning fabric filling her nostrils as she swung desperately, her teeth gritted against the pain. The tendril pulsed, dragging her toward a jagged outcrop, its razor-sharp edges glinting with molten rock, a mere heartbeat from slicing her apart. The chasm floor buckled, a new geyser erupting beneath, its scalding spray catching her arm, blistering flesh as she twisted to avoid the worst. The grappling line's anchor on the ledge groaned, a crack splitting the rock, and the masked figure stumbled, their pulse rifle slipping into the void.
Lena's voice pierced the chaos, a triumphant shriek from the falling chopper: "You're nothing!" The wreckage tilted, its rotor blades shearing off, one hurtling toward Kara like a guillotine, forcing her to release the line with one hand to dodge, her body spinning wildly. The tendril seized the moment, yanking harder, pulling her leg toward the outcrop, the blade grazing her calf, drawing a fresh gush of blood. The grappling line snapped a thread, the jolt dislodging the shrapnel deeper, her vision swimming with black spots as shock set in.
The masked leader lunged, catching the line with both hands, their mask tearing away to reveal Marcus's bloodied face, his eyes blazing with determination. But a boulder crashed down, pinning his leg, his scream echoing as he fought to hold on. The chopper's wreckage struck the chasm wall, exploding in a secondary blast, sending a shockwave that shattered the grappling line's anchor, sending Kara plummeting. She flailed, snagging a dangling power conduit with her teeth again, the electric surge locking her jaw, her body convulsing as it held her weight—barely—above the inferno.
The tendril lashed upward, wrapping around her waist, pulling against the conduit, the metal sparking and bending under the strain. The geyser surged higher, its flames brushing her back, igniting her jacket as she twisted to smother it against the wall, the pain a white-hot torment. The chasm walls groaned, a final collapse imminent, and a massive slab tilted, its shadow engulfing her. Marcus's voice broke through the static: "Cut it… now!"—but his hands were trapped, and the tendril's grip tightened, dragging her toward the slab's crushing edge.