Chapter 44

~~David~~

Remnants weren’t much of a problem in this area. Maybe it was because the place was a dead zone like Timaeus and Laoko said. No souls got dumped here, so no demons came hunting, which meant no activity, which apparently meant fewer remnants. They found several and promptly killed them, but only several.

Killing remnants was getting easier. He didn’t like that.

After some more exploring, Daoka joined them, and the group wandered back to the underground tomb where she’d had her private time. It was a good place for them to sleep, and defendable, a big square room with only one entrance. It also meant if the rider, angels, or eldritch monsters found them, they’d be trapped and have to stand their ground. Hopefully Timaeus would come rescue their ass, if that happened.

Timaeus insisted they were safe with his group in the cathedral, instead, but the demon also knew they were justified in being cautious.

Everyone sat and got comfy on the stone. Bones littered the ground, and the black skeleton statues watched the group from the walls, their wrists shackled. A cozy place compared to some caves they’d slept in. Even better, they had a scrying pool.

David looked down into the silvery water and glanced Dao’s way. She smiled at him. She had to know what he was thinking, right? What was she looking at when she was here alone? Why alone? What possible thing could Tacitus have done to make Dao lose her voice?

“Where Acelina?” Lasca asked, and she squatted by the bowl.

“With Laoko and Timaeus,” Caera said, and she lay on her side by the wall. “She’ll probably be sleeping with Timaeus and his group from now on. And she’ll probably stay in the spire when we move on from there.”

Laria plopped down on her ass and kicked the blackstone floor a few times. Her hooves made clack clack sounds.

“Want Acelina to stay.”

Jes laughed and sat in the corner with Dao. “Acelina was just slowing us down. She’s a spire mother. Zotivas stay in spires.”

“I dunno,” David said. “She helped out when those monsters attacked us. Which, by the way, I have no idea if they’ll pop up and attack us in the middle of the night. So, uh, be on your guard.”

Everyone groaned.

“Acelina,” Laara said, “is nice. Not ... nice nice.” She gestured to Dao. “But nice!”

“Pretty sure she’s a bitch,” Jes said.

“Nu uh,” Latia said. “She’s nice! Mean, and nice. Nice meanie.”

David would have laughed, but it just didn’t come. Sighing, he sat with Caera. With her on her side and back to the wall, she lay in that classic dog-on-side pose, and he was free to sit between her arms and legs and lean back against her stomach.

Daoka had a secret. Caera had a dark past he’d never be able to appreciate. And Acelina was leaving the group in just a couple days. A lot to think about, and he stared at the scrying pool by his feet and stroked his chin.

He could look something up, see something on the surface, for old time’s sake. But he just ... didn’t miss anything from the surface. Yeah, life in Hell was hell, but there wasn’t anything specific about the surface he found himself wanting. Not being chased by everyone and everything imaginable all the time would be nice, but that wasn’t something he could just look up in the pool. The things he wanted most right now, the things he could ask the scrying pool to show him, were right around him.

Latia and Laria hopped over to him and sat between him and the scrying pool. With big, heavy smiles, they held out their hooves. They wanted their hooves checked.

“I don’t think,” he said, returning their smiles, “that Acelina is all that bad, Jes. She shared her necklaces with Daoka, remember?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jes said.

Nodding, he motioned for Laria, and the little lady got between his legs and put her hooves on his lap.

“And she fed the Las hearts without a prompt from anyone. More than once.”

“True,” Caera said.

“And she’s been surprisingly cuddly with them sometimes. She even let you two”—he gestured to Jes and Dao—”suckle on her after we had sex last time, remember?”

Dao nodded. Jes rolled her eyes and gestured to Moriah.

“What do you think? You’re a bitch, too. What’s your read on her?”

Moriah, standing by the entrance with the curving stairway behind her, glared at Jes, but it didn’t have the same stabby-stab energy it used to. Maybe the angel was getting used to them, or didn’t have the mental energy anymore. Maybe she was hungry. David was.

“I think demons manipulate. You are predators, physically and psychologically. I wouldn’t trust anything she does to not have an ulterior motive.”

Lasca and Laara frowned up at her. Laria was too busy enjoying David running his fingers along her hooves to notice. Latia wasn’t any better. Giggling, she shifted in, got around Laria’s wing shoulder to shoulder with her, and put her hooves on his lap, too.

“You give demons too much credit,” Caera said.

“Perhaps. All demons are capable of is fighting and fucking, yes? Is that what you were going to say? That they’re too focused on the moment to plan ahead?” Hearing an angel swear was so weird.

Caera lifted her head, but rolled her eye and went limp again. “Demons like a lot of others things, too.” The ‘bitch’ was implied by her tone. “But we’re not planners.”

“Your ruler Zelandariel was a planner.”

Jes shook her head. “Not a lot of Zels running around, angel. Most of us are just trying to get by. Or did you not notice how quickly demons get hungry, and how we’re always fighting each other for a meal?”

Moriah frowned at the word meal. Yeah, she was hungry.

“It’s twilight,” David said. “We should get something to eat tomorrow. Using the rune and playing the strings really drains me.”

“You closed a canyon,” Caera said. “Strings or no, that’d make anyone hungry.”

“Yeah, you did,” Jes said. “That was pretty—”

“Scrying pool!” Lasca stood by it, leaned over, and grinned down at it with her big shark smile. “Show me sexy fireman! Naked!”

David blinked. Everyone laughed. And unless he’d temporarily gone insane, that was the hint of a smile on Moriah’s lips.

He couldn’t see from his sitting spot, but the sound of a shower running told him what was up.

“Lasca has a type?” Jes said, getting up. Whatever was on the scrying pool made her laugh. “The scrying pool found a guy showering. Tall, broad, muscular.”

All the girls — save Moriah — looked at David and grinned.

“Hey! I am muscular. Kinda. A bit.” He poked his abs. “I worked hard to get this fit! It’s hard when you’re just naturally tiny.”

Jes shrugged. “Grow taller.”

“I tried. Didn’t work.”

They laughed.

He’d never done that before, make a joke that made everyone laugh. Smiling, he looked back at the two pairs of hooves in front of him, and ran his thumbs along their undersides, looking for lodged pebbles. Him, making jokes, for a crowd of people? It actually landing? The idea was so alien, it’d never even crossed his mind to do that. At best, he used to make sarcastic comments that’d get a chuckle or two out of his fellow students, forced to work on the same stupid project. They enjoyed his old-man cynicism. Sometimes.

Him being social, and just saying the first thing that came to mind, was strange. He’d never been drunk before. Did it feel like this?

Over-thinking it, David, again. Don’t ruin it.

Daoka stood with Lasca, shared some clicks, and pointed at the pool. Whatever she said, it got some more laughs from the group, but no one translated. This felt suspiciously like girl talk he wasn’t supposed to hear.

Satisfied their hooves were in good condition, Laria and Latia crawled up to him and snuggled into his sides. Two demons and a human, all resting against Caera’s stomach and between her arms and legs. Tight fit, but Caera chuckled and closed her eye.

“Monsters were scary,” Laria said.

“Very scary,” Latia said, and she rubbed her cheek on his shoulder.

Jes gestured to David with a wing. “I’d rather fight those than a proper army of demons. They seemed easy to fight ... at first. That big tentacle started off invisible, but gained a shape, right? And the aliens kinda changed shape a bit as we fought. I saw some claws get longer.”

“Yes,” Moriah said, arms folded and eyes pointed down. “They were evolving.”

“I dunno about evolving,” Jes said. “But I was kinda waiting for David to use his weird magic tricks to stab a few of them or something. But you didn’t.”

He winced. “Sorry. I tried to summon something, but every time those monsters screamed, it squashed my song. I couldn’t make anything happen.”

Moriah stepped closer. “Nothing?”

“Nothing. I mean, maybe if I had played really, really hard, you know? Hit the strings as hard as I could, risk blacking out, maybe I could have played something loud enough to punch through their screams. It’d be like trying to play the guitar with someone else grabbing the strings, though.”

The angel swiped her good wing through the bowl, destroyed the image, earned some whines from Lasca and Laara, and stepped closer again.

“You and your sister can play strings, some form of music only you unmarked can hear.”

“Yeah.”

“And these creatures who invade our world, ripped Deaths’ Grip asunder, and assaulted us — you — today, they silence the music?”

“Yeah?”

Moriah paced, eyes down and arms across her chest. “The Great Tower, or at least Hell, responds to your music. You can control her, manipulate her, something no one else can do, save for perhaps the archangels. If these monsters can mute your song, that is...” Whatever thoughts ran through the agitated angel’s mind, she didn’t finish them. She paced in place, rotating her bad shoulder and budding wing.

“What about the Old Ones?” Caera asked. “I’ve read some stories talking about the absurd things they did fighting the archangels. Firestorms. Hellquakes. Things like that.”

“I ... don’t know. Regardless, the Old Ones are dead, and the bodies of the three archangels litter Angel’s Spine.” Angel’s Spine. Real name, or at last the name given by the runes, was Heaven’s Tears. Fitting. “Whatever these creatures are, if they can affect this music only the unmarked can use, then perhaps there is validity to this claim they will spell our end. If the Great Tower is a grand orchestra, existence is a song, and something has come to squash that song, then...”

Everyone stared. There was grand and epic, and then there were battles of literal existential scale epic. Then again, Heaven and Hell weren’t physical realms, not made of particles and atoms and whatnot. It kinda made sense that if someone or something was literally trying to invade the afterlife, it’d be doing it on that kinda crazy, existential scale.

“Or I could be wrong,” Moriah said. “Perhaps the Great Tower is not built on this silent music at all. Perhaps these monsters are simply some form of bottom-dweller creature that’s existed beneath Hell for ages. Or perhaps they are another creation of Lucifer’s, finally awoken from their slumber. Whatever the truth is, the council...”

Everyone sat up straight or leaned in closer, waiting.

Dao clicked once, and Moriah sighed.

“The council, the twenty-seven rulers of the nine Heavenly Islands ... will not answer. They explain nothing!” She spun. Jes, Dao, Laara, and Lasca jumped back, and the angel punched the wall with her good arm. It cracked, and the demons gawked. “Remnants wander free, and they say nothing. Unmarked are taken from our doorstep, and they say nothing. Death’s Grip is torn apart by some alien force no angel or demon has ever known, and they say nothing! Nothing, except for one command: kill the unmarked.”

Caera lifted her head. Laria and Latia held David’s arms. Jes and Dao inched closer to him and put themselves between him and the angel.

Moriah sighed and shook her head. “Calm yourselves. I’m not going to strike the boy down. I am convinced something foul is afoot, that perhaps the council is poisoned or tainted by this force, and that David is but a pawn in this game.” And of course she gave him the side eye. “But if, in the end, killing David is how we save the world, I will not hesitate.”

The girls opened their mouths, but David put up his hands.

“Agreed.”

Moriah glared harder than usual. “What?”

“If killing me is how we save the world, then go ahead. I mean, I’d prefer we not do that. I’d especially prefer we figure out what will actually save the world, and not jump to any conclusions and kill me before then. For all we know, the unmarked are literally the key to saving the world, and someone’s tricked the council into wanting us dead.” He rubbed Caera’s shoulder. “And I know that, if it ever came to that, I wouldn’t have the strength to kill myself. I’m only human. So an angel willing to do it for me would be the best bet, right?”

The room might as well have sunk under water. Everyone stared at him, Moriah shocked, the demons sad.

“It won’t come to that,” Caera said.

“It could,” Moriah said. “If those invaders are what will destroy the Great Tower, and if the only reason they are attacking is to kill the unmarked, would they keep attacking if there were no unmarked?”

No one said a thing.

Daoka shook her head and joined David and Caera. With a few hard clicks aimed at Moriah, she picked Latia up, sat in her place against Caera’s belly, and put the gremla on her lap. Whatever she said, it made every demon look down, Moriah too, until the silence settled into David’s bones.

“Very well,” Moriah said. “I will...” She ground her teeth and clenched her fists. “I will see this through.”

“See this through?” Jes asked.

“Yes, gorgala. I am trapped between duty and reality, and loath I am to admit it, there is something strange happening. I will help you, unmarked, until we learn more, until I have some proper idea as to a course of action.”

David titled his head. “I was gonna be super appreciative if you just let me go. But, actually help? I thought the council—”

“The council of the Heavenly Islands say nothing, and have said nothing for two millennia, save for your death warrant. I cannot shake the feeling that there is something more going on, as you have said, and I ... felt that way before I ever met you. Many angels have. For two thousand years, hundreds of my kind have drifted toward Hell, as if they could find a ... a ... I don’t know, someone else they could speak of this with. Angels do not speak against the council.” She gestured to David. “You saw a council angel before, at the gate of Heaven. There are twenty-seven of them, three for each island, and each has great power.”

Great power. He could believe it. The angel had been huge, bigger than a tetrad, and had six wings.

“Thank you,” David said. “I—”

“I do this for Heaven, not for you.”

“I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t be thankful.”

Groaning, the angel sat against the wall in the corner, and pulled her good wing in front of her like a blanket.

“We need food,” she said. “My wounds are taking longer to heal than I thought, and using batlam today was difficult.”

“David make food,” Lasca said, and she and Laara sat in front of their sisters.

“Make food?” he asked.

“Make food!”

“Sorry, can’t.”

“But, Lasca saw David move ground, and break trees!”

“I mean, I did, but—”

“And,” Laara said, “David made spikes and stuff.”

He winced and glanced Moriah’s way. Thankfully, the angel hid her face behind her wing, her own little compartment of privacy, but she was probably grinding her teeth, Laara pulling up the memory of Shaul’s death.

“Those are parts of Hell,” he said. “I can ... I can...” He raised a brow and looked up at Jes, at Dao beside him, at Caera on his other side, and back at the four little Las. “Maybe I can?”

Jes laughed. “How the fuck are you gonna make food?”

“Forbidden trees. They’re a part of Hell, right?”

“Yeah, but so are burning bushes and statues and the fucking tomb we’re sitting in. So is the scrying pool right in front of us. Can you make any of this?”

“Maybe? I haven’t tried. All I’ve done is move things.”

Daoka chirped and gestured at the empty space by their feet. Whatever she said, Jes laughed and shook her head.

“If he can grow a tree,” she said, “I will do a fucking song and dance.”

Daoka clapped twice, quietly. The Las clapped a half dozen times, not so quietly.

“Alright, let me try.” He was genuinely hungry after closing a canyon and using batlam. An easy source of food, one that didn’t come with nasty memories, would be a godsend, maybe literally.

He reached out with his sixth sense. All the sense did was tell him about what parts of Hell were near him, fuzzy images that got fuzzier the further they were. The tomb, the scrying pool, the surface overhead, streams of lava deep below, the fire sky far above, he sensed it all. And the more he played with the strings that permeated everything, the more he found the notes these things resonated with.

He plucked a string, just a little thing. And a little thing popped out of the floor, between cracks in the blackstone. A budding, brown plant, no more than an inch tall.

The Las oohed and awed, and Lasca and Laara squatted around the sprouting plant.

“David made?” Lasca asked.

“Y-Yeah, but...”

“But that ain’t no tree,” Jes said, laughing. “It’s so small. What’s the matter? Nervous?”

Caera chuckled, and her laughter made Dao and David shake against her chest. Demon girls picking up insults from the surface. Ouch.

“It’s not easy!” he said. “I’m trying to do this on my own, without the ... the ... whatever it is that sometimes lets me make the really big things happen. This is all me.”

Moriah lowered her wing enough to watch him, eyes neutral. While Jes put up her hands and wings in surrender, a very David-like mannerism.

“Whatever you say, kid.”

Kid. If she knew the secret word to get under his skin, or was just playing with him, he couldn’t tell. He played the strings harder, reached further, told the music to bring all that was needed to grow a tree, and funnel the resonance and essence for its fruit straight into the budding, tiny plant.

The tree grew a little more. And a little more. And a little more.

He collapsed back against Caera’s stomach and took a breather. “I think this would be easier in a place with more people. More remnants, more demons, more souls. This is like trying to tap a sand desert for water.”

“Still though,” Jes said, coming closer to the tree and squatting directly beside its one-foot stature. “This does look like a forbidden tree. Give it a few years and it might even bear fruit.”

Ugh. His head fell back on Caera’s side.

“The Black Valley is different,” Caera said. “Remnants grow there by the millions, billions maybe, everywhere, all the time. It churns through them and rips through them like a ... a uh ... meat grinder, I think is the term?”

“Gross,” David said. “But if that’s true, and Mia figures this out, yeah, I bet she’d have an easy time growing forbidden trees.”

“But not you,” Jes said, grinning. And to add salt to the wound, she flicked the little tree.

David glared at her and hit the strings again. Each time he got a little more familiar with the sounds, the way Hell responded to them, the way the ground and the blackstone vibrated, the way the blackwood warped and shifted, the way the amber veins on the ceiling pulsed. Just like learning an instrument, it wasn’t just about hitting the strings hard. He had to learn to control them.

He reached far and played a tune to draw the essence and resonance like a snake charmer. And the tree grew, rising higher until Jes took a step back. The dark, dead branches reached out. The small tree peaked at over a meter tall, with a half dozen branches, sharp and mean, and a few small fruits dangled from its branches.

“Holy shit,” Jes said. “You did it.”

Gasping, David checked his forehead. Yeap, that was sweat.

“Not sure it was worth it. It took energy to grow that. Hopefully energy I’ll gain back eating one of these.” He slipped a chuckle in between his pants.

“Still, though,” Caera said. “You’re learning, right? Not like there’s ever been unmarked before to tell you how to do any of this. Learning now instead of in the middle of battle is a good idea.”

“Good idea,” Laria said. She grabbed a small fruit and handed it to him.

Lasca grabbed another and hopped over to Moriah. “For angel.”

Moriah looked down at the heart-shaped fruit and at the little impa holding it out for her. No need for Mia to translate the expression. The angel was confused. But she took the fruit, slowly, did a double-take of Lasca, and swallowed the fruit down.

“Th ... Thank you,” she said.

Lasca tilted her head. “Angel says thank you to Lasca?”

Grumbling, Moriah nudged Lasca back with her wing. “Do not taunt me, little demon.”

“Not taunt! Not taunt! Humans say thank you, and welcome, and please. Not demons.”

“No, I imagine you don’t. Humans do. Sometimes because they are kind, empathetic, and worthy of Heaven’s waters. Sometimes because they are cruel, manipulative, and worthy of Hell’s fire. But I am an angel, and...” Sighing, her wing hung limp in front and beside her, huge feathers across the floor and her lap like a loose blanket she’d given up hiding behind. “Thank you.”

The demons all gasped, but David grabbed Latia and Laria before they could go over and make a big deal of Moriah’s vulnerability. They blinked back at him, fluttering their wings, and he shook his head.

“Leave the angel alone,” he said, soft as he could.

“But why?” Laara said, joining him.

“It’s complicated. Don’t worry about it.” He gestured to the Las and to the different spaces around Caera’s long body. “Let’s sleep.”

A little distraction was all it took, and the Las came and joined him and Caera. The tregeera was eight feet tall when standing on her hind legs, longer if you went from nose to tail, and had plenty of room for Lasca and Laara to join him. Doubly so, when Dao got up and sat closer to the entrance. Jes joined her. They were taking first watch.

David smiled at Dao. She smiled back. He wanted to ask. God, he wanted to ask. It tingled on his skin, danced in his brain, little nagging voices that told him he had to find out what Dao’s secret was. How fucked was that? Something had happened to her, something that made her not talk anymore, something probably traumatic; how fucked did something have to be to be traumatic to a demon? And yet, he still wanted to know.

Sighing, he melted back against Caera’s stomach. Laria and Latia snuggled to his side, and Laara and Lasca snuggled to theirs, half draped across Caera’s arms and legs. Thanks to Jes, he couldn’t stop thinking about Caera either. They got along, him and her, and it felt natural and easy. Caera usually spoke bluntly; he loved that. Caera was smart and interested in things; he loved that. Caera was fun, but not silly; he loved that. Caera had a serious side to her, very serious sometimes, and in fact she was usually serious unless someone else instigated the silliness; he loved that.

She was also lean and muscular and had huge breasts. No denying it, he loved that, too.

He’d never had a girlfriend before, and he and Caera had never said they were dating. Was dating even a thing in Hell? Should he ask her? But then, how would that relationship work?

David held up his hands and looked at them. Jes had a point. Not only was he human, or at least human-like, but far as Moriah could tell, he was the sort of human who should be in Heaven. How could he have a relationship with a demon? And what would that even look like? Sharing sexual encounters, or even kissing, seemed perfectly normal to them. Cultural difference, or a whole species difference?

Overthinking. Again. Making drama in his head for no reason. This isn’t a soap opera, you moron.

He reached over the two little ladies on his left and rubbed Caera’s shoulder and back. She purred, a deep rumbling sound closer to a growl than an actual purr. If she was being self-destructively analytical, too, he couldn’t tell.

He’d ask her about the dating thing later. Maybe after they saved the world? Or, maybe tomorrow? Not tomorrow. He was too much of a pussy for that.

~~Day 64~~

It took a couple more days of traveling to reach the spire, but they did, and déjà vu hit David like a hard wind. It was the same as Death’s Grip’s. He’d half expected a different shape, maybe something more Gothic, like the buildings in the Black Mausoleum district the spire stood next to. Nope, it was all flowing black metal covered in chunks of red, pulsating flesh, and white bone. He couldn’t be sure with all the fog, but it probably had circular, black, platform balconies up high above, with big white fangs surrounding them.

The spire stood up from a valley, not deep, but deep enough the fog pooled at the bottom, hiding the entrance of the enormous structure and all its jagged spikes until they came closer. So close, David almost froze when a dozen brute silhouettes came into view only twenty meters ahead.

Timaeus and Laoko led the group, Acelina behind them, and the two tetrads clicked a couple times, loud enough to penetrate the fog.

“Step aside,” Timaeus said. “We’ve come to see Azailia.”

David and Caera crept closer until they could see details. A dozen brutes stood in the cavern-like entrance of the spire, walls of black metal and red flesh around them, giant white teeth hanging from the archway above.

“Timaeus. Laoko. Teleius?”

“Dead,” Laoko said.

The brute in the center nodded and stepped aside. Wow. That was easy.

Timaeus faced the group and spoke to his entourage. “I expect you at the entrance in two days, the moment morning twilight ends.” And with a small flourish of his wings, he walked into the spire.

It wasn’t silent. The fog suppressed sound, but the screeches of distant demons permeated the endless white blanket. If this were anything like Death’s Grip, there were probably imps, grems, and gorgalas taking flight from the balconies high above, and gliding to whatever location they wanted. What would the Grave Valley look like from on high?

Laoko gestured to the group, and the group followed, David and the girls first. It wasn’t his first time in a spire, but this time he got to admire the decor. Or be scared shitless by it.

Black metal frameworks, covered in black spikes, with skinless flesh growing on them. A hard metal ground. A giant pit in the center that led up and down, with inner balconies lined with large white teeth. Dangling cages filled with remnants and jagged spikes of their own so the remnants slowly tore themselves to pieces. And demons. So many demons.

“I feel like,” he whispered to Jes beside him, “that we’re walking into the lion’s den, again.”

“Expression?”

“Yeah. Never heard that one?”

“Don’t think so.”

He winced. “It means I’m surrounding myself with things that are likely to kill me.”

She laughed and looked around. There wasn’t much fog in the spire, which meant demons from every corner of the circular area could see them. Dozens of brutes, vrats, and gargoyles gathered around, eyes wide. Acelina warranted a second of staring. Moriah warranted a dozen. But many stared at David and didn’t stop. No way they’d react like this to a random soul without a mark. They must have heard about the unmarked.

A dozen grems and imps, hopping up from floors below, jumped up onto the inner edge of their platform, and stared. The Las stood tall and proud beside David, Acelina, and Moriah, kept the posture for a whole two seconds, and hopped toward their fellow little demons. Chattering clicks turned into a wave of tiny sounds.

“Don’t worry,” Acelina said. Ahead of him, she leaned down and whispered. “The little vermin could never communicate sensitive information. It is beyond them.”

He nodded and hid his smile. She called them vermin, but her tone didn’t have the same bite it used to. Mia would have been proud of him for noticing.

“Azailia waits for us above,” Laoko said, “in her main chamber. Come.” The ten-foot woman on hooves walked to the edge of the balcony, took a peek down at the deep pit below, and jumped across and up to the balcony above.

David gave the watching demons his best menacing stare. If he could make them afraid of him, hopefully he could avoid some violence. Unfortunately, that was hard to do when Laoko turned around on the floor above, opposite of the balcony, and waited. He couldn’t jump that, not even close.

“Pathetic,” Acelina said, grabbed David by the hands, and jumped. “Come along, Las.”

There was no pants-pissing in Hell, thank god. Acelina was not gentle, and he dangled like a fish on a hook from her hand over a pit deep enough the fall would turn him into paste. It wasn’t like he didn’t think Acelina was strong, but seeing the nine-foot woman jump after Laoko put her in a new perspective. Yeah, she was strong.