Gilda could only look up to the darkening skies. A cold gust of wind blew around her, and even with her thick coat, she shivered. Everything else seemed to move slowly, from the retreating Marines, running from cover to cover, to the Wind Knights trying to fly in the sky. She wasn’t the praying type, and Gilda wondered, eyes closed, if at her final moments, she would call out for the Ancestors to help. 