Wings of Fury

The refinery loomed in the dark, a monolith of steel and shadows, its towers belching smoke into the sky. Astrid Thorsdottir, Valkyrie and warrior, crouched behind a pile of scrap metal, her sharp eyes scanning the heavy iron doors. Clad in close-fitting leather armor that did nothing to conceal her curves, she squatted, her enchanted spear rested against her shoulder, its runes glinting faintly in the dim light. Inside, her girlfriend was held captive by Malthorax, a notorious wizard, and his coven of grotesquely bloated warlocks. And to top it all off, they stole her lover Eliza, White Council wizard-in-training.

The problem? The doors were sealed tight with layers of magic. No amount of brute force or subtlety could break through. Sigrun had tried everything, her wings twitching in frustration. She whispered a quick prayer, though her faith wavered in moments like these.

Her patience was rewarded when a latecomer waddled into view. The warlock was dressed head-to-toe in glossy black latex, his swollen, overinflated body quivering with each step. He struggled forward, wheezing heavily, oblivious to her presence.

Astrid’s lips curled into a smirk. “Perfect.”

She waited until he was close, then sprang from the shadows. Her spear struck with the flat of its blade, knocking the warlock to the ground. He groaned, unable to lift his bloated form, and Sigrun wasted no time. Chanting softly, she enspelled him with one of her more creative curses. The warlock’s body swelled further, his skin and latex stretching taut as he became a literal ticking bomb.

"Who are you?" he said in a trembling voice.

"Your worst enemy, though I'd normally reserve that spot for your cardiologist," replied Astrid. "Now, brace yourself, you have a new career path ahead of you: Door Opener. Thanks for your service,” she said, hefting him easily and hurling him at the sealed doors.

The explosion was deafening. Flames roared, and the iron doors were blasted inward, the wards destroyed. Astrid stepped through the smoking wreckage with her spear in hand, striding forward confidently.

“Thanks for the assist, darling,” she muttered with a sarcastic smirk, stepping over the greasy spotthat was the unfortunate warlock.

The interior was dim and reeked of dark magic and industrial fumes. At the center of the room, her girlfriend,Eliza, was bound to a crude iron altar, her face pale but defiant. Blond locks framing a delicate face but bloodied face, she smarled defiance. Around her, Malthorax and his coven stood in shock.

Malthorax stepped forward, his bulk grotesque. Clad in gleaming black latex, his bloated form moved sluggishly, yet his voice carried oily confidence. “You dare trespass here, Valkyrie? You’ll regret it.”

Astrid raised her spear, the runes flaring to life. “Release her and surrender, Malthorax. Face justice, or I’ll bring it to you.”

The wizard chuckled, spreading his hands. “Your threats amuse me. Do you truly believe your pitiful light can extinguish my darkness?”

With a wave of his hand, he sent a bolt of magic hurtling toward her. Astrid twirled her spear, deflecting the energy with ease. The blast ricocheted into the walls, leaving a smoking crater.

“You’ll have to do better,” she taunted, advancing with measured steps.

The wizard’s consort, a bloated woman in matching latex, joined the fray, hurling a spell at Sigrun. The Valkyrie deflected it with a flick of her spear, her patience waning.

“Is that all you’ve got? Time to learn what I do to those who come beween me and my lover,” she said, planting the spear’s tip into the ground. Its runes glowed brighter, spreading a wave of divine energy through the room.

The coven clutched their bellies, their expressions shifting from confusion to terror. Sigrun’s spell had awakened the latent instability in their dark magic. Their bloated bodies began to swell further, the volatile energy inside them reaching critical mass.

"Do you even know what you’ve done to yourself, Malthorax?" Astrid asked, a cruel sneer crossing her lips. "All that dark magic you’ve consumed—it’s twisted you. Your body fat isn’t just fat anymore. It’s a ticking time bomb. And I’ve just lit the fuse. You’ve sealed your fate, Malthorax,” Astrid declared, advancing on the wizard.

“No! Wait!” Malthorax cried, sweat pouring down his face. “I can give you anything—power, riches, whatever you desire!”

Astrid sneered, gripping his collar and hoisting him off the ground. “You’ve spent your life taking from others. Now, it’s your turn to give.”

She hurled him into the refinery’s main chamber, his swollen form bouncing off the metal floor. The warlocks scrambled for the exits, but their grotesque bodies were too large to fit through the doors.

“Fire purifies,” Astrid said coldly. She turned to the altar and freed her girlfriend with a single strike of her spear.

“Are you okay?” Astrid asked, her voice softening. She grinned as she caught her lover, pulling her close. "You’re safe now," she murmured, though her eyes never left Malthorax. He was still expanding, his skin now taut and shiny, his face twisted in terror.

Her girlfriend nodded, though her eyes remained wary. “Let’s finish this.”

Astrid smiled, wrapping her wings protectively around her lover. “Hold tight.”

With a powerful leap, they soared into the air, bursting through the refinery’s roof. High above the chaos, Astrid adjusted her grip on her spear, her gaze locked on Malthorax’s writhing form below.

"Is it wrong that I’m kind of enjoying this?" Eliza shouted over the rush of wind, her voice filled with exhilaration.

Astrid laughed, the sound dark and almost predatory. "Not at all," she replied, her eyes gleaming with anticipation as they rose higher and higher into the air.

“Ready?” she asked, her voice laced with excitement.

Her girlfriend grinned, smacking Sigrun’s armored rear. “Let’s light him up.”

She could feel the magic building within her, the thrill of the coming destruction sending a shiver down her spine. There was something almost sensual about it, the way power coursed through her body, the way she could feel her heart racing in time with the magic she was about to unleash.

Astrid couldn’t help but chuckle. She touched up her lipstick, giving herself a quick once-over in the reflection of her armor, then leaned down to Eliza for a quick, fierce kiss. "Hold on tight," she murmured against her lover’s lips.

Then, with a final glance down at the grotesque balloon that was Malthorax, she dove.

The wind screamed around her as she plummeted, wings tucked tightly around Eliza to shield her from the force of the dive. Baldric, seeing his doom approaching, flailed wildly, sending desperate bursts of magic in every direction, but Astrid was too fast. She easily dodged the blasts, her focus locked on the bullseye etched onto his bloated stomach. Astrid dove, her body a living missile aimed straight at Malthorax’s grotesque belly. The wizard screamed, flinging desperate spells, but they dissipated harmlessly against the Valkyrie’s divine aura.

For a split second, their eyes met. Malthorax’s were wide with terror, while Astrid’s gleamed with dark satisfaction. He barely had time to scream before she collided with him, her body slamming into the bullseye with deadly precision.The impact was cataclysmic. The refinery erupted in a fiery explosion, shaking the ground for miles. Astrid and her girlfriend emerged from the flames unscathed, the magic shielding them from harm.

As the smoke cleared, a pitiful groan caught their attention. Malthorax’s consort had survived, though not unscathed. Her bloated, latex-clad body was impaled on a fuel line, gasoline pumping into her at an alarming rate. She flailed weakly, her form stretching to near-spherical proportions.

Astrid approached, her spear resting casually on her shoulder. “You made quite the mess,” she said with a mocking smile.

Eliza knelt, inspecting the trail of gasoline leaking from the consort’s bloated body. Flicking her lighter open, she grinned. “Looks like a human firework to me. Think she’ll fly?”

“Only one way to find out,” Sigrun replied.

The lighter’s flame met the fuel, igniting the trail with a roar. The fire raced toward the consort, who let out a desperate scream as the pressure within her built.

With a sound like a champagne cork, she launched skyward, her bloated body spinning wildly as she climbed higher and higher. At the apex of her ascent, she detonated in a dazzling explosion of black and gold, her remains scattering like fireworks across the night sky.

Sigrun let out a satisfied sigh. “Dramatic to the end.”

Her girlfriend slipped an arm around her waist. “Almost beautiful. Almost.”

"Time to celebrate life, then," said Astrid with a wink, as the two walked off, arms draped around each other, to the sound of fire and police sirens. On the ground, a valknut was carved into the sidewalk.