Kori flew.
Not the way Osamu had thrown other things over the years. Kori had asked for a proper throw, and Osamu had given her one - full force, full extension, the release timed at the perfect apex of his rotation. Her body cut through the night air at a speed that would have killed an ordinary person on contact with anything solid. The wind tore past her face. The buildings flashed by below, their lights a horizontal smear, the eastern district unspooling in a single long line as she crossed it.
The amplification phenomenon was still active. Her body, threaded through with more Eon than she had access to on a normal night, took the speed without complaint. Her grip on her knives was steady. Her balance, even in the middle of an aerial trajectory, was something she didn't have to think about. She was a Phalanx. The air was a medium she had learned to operate in years before Arashi was even born.
She laughed.
