The angel of stone and light stands still, as Charlotte falls. Then stirs. It's wings flap, testing out their strength. Once, twice, a light wind and embers fill the air and singe those who stand nearby. It's silver armor flashes in the setting sun and glows red in the stone blade's light.

It turns the sword downward, placing the tip upon the ground and both palms upon the hilt, it's wings at rest as it stands at attention. And a deep voice, like thunder upon the plains, comes forth from the visored helm:

"YOU WHO SUMMON JUSTICE, WHAT IS YOUR DEMAND? AND BY WHAT RIGHT DO YOU STAKE YOUR CLAIM? SPEAK, AND SPEAK SWIFTLY."