3.19 – Cool Heads and Hot Bodies

It was the first week of the new school year, and Leona was struggling to adjust to the rigid constraints of having a schedule again. Over the break, she’d grown accustomed to transforming into Aurora on a whim, whether it was to train, patrol, or just take a flight for the sheer joy of it. Most days, she’d follow it up with spending time with her friends or attending the exploring club. Sometimes, she would even drop in on Sarah, though that always came with the frustrating requirement of supervision.

At first, she tried sticking to the buses, but it quickly became more trouble than it was worth—the waiting, the crowded seats, the agonizingly slow route compared to just flying. Eventually, she gave up on public transport altogether. Instead, she figured out a new routine: leave early, fly to school as Aurora, then find a hidden spot to change back into Leona before walking in like a normal student. Much more efficient. And, let’s be honest—a lot more fun.

She’d perfected the timing, waiting until nearly the last possible moment to head over while still avoiding being late. Eventually, she dialed it back slightly—just enough to give herself extra time to find a good secluded landing spot without risking exposure. Still, ‘as the crow flies’ was undeniably the fastest, most effective way to get to school. When she’d told Quinn about her new commute, her sister had given her a long, knowing look.

On her way to school the next day, Aurora, of course, defended herself out loud to the open air. “I’m helping to save the planet by reducing emissions! Isn’t that what superheroes do?”

There was a beat of silence before a now-familiar feminine voice chimed in—dry as ever, but edged with the subtle warmth that had developed over time.

An argument based in logic but driven by self-indulgence, a voice observed in Aurora’s mind, her tone carrying the usual blend of precision and playfulness. Shall I run the calculations on how much personal enjoyment factors into this supposed environmental benefit? She added smoothly.

Aurora smirked mid-flight. “Not necessary, Holly.”

It was yet another incorporeal voice—except, unlike a certain other presence, Holly didn’t actually live inside Aurora. Instead, she resided in Aurora’s ID card, ever since Apex had upgraded it with one of her own cybernetic chips back at the Kitchen. One way or another, Aurora was collecting voices in her head.

Holly, the new resident AI of her upgraded Sentinels ID card, had become a constant presence in her life—an unexpected but not unwelcome one. After a dramatic chain of events, the Hostess AI had been deemed fit for reintegration following therapy, but she’d refused to return to her previous role in the Sentinels' Kitchen, unwilling to go back to an existence of isolation and servitude. And so, she’d requested something different. She’d chosen Aurora’s ID card—not just because it was an escape from the facility, but because Aurora had saved her, even after everything she had done. Even after trying to kill her with her own hands, Aurora had still cared.

The ID card, in turn, had been upgraded with fancy bells and whistles to make Holly’s new ‘home’ a more pleasant place to reside. Aurora had had everything explained to her, but she could honestly not recall what half the old features were, much less the newly upgraded ones, or how science could grant a palm sized device running a fully conscious AI over two weeks of battery life before needing a recharge.

So now, Holly lived here—an AI with free will, residing in the pocket of the first person to truly value her. It seemed that old habits truly died hard though. Even when she had expressly made moves to get away from her previous role, Holly still would always help out wherever she could these past few weeks, self-appointing herself as an informal personal assistant and helper to Aurora. 

In another positive turn, the once repressed AI did now seem to be more comfortable letting her true personality show through, although she was a bit stiff. She’d toned down the peppy vibe a great deal and now took on a more aloof attitude. She would still unconsciously do some of her little whimsical affectations like her dance however, which made those little quirks all the cuter. She had also, on occasion, expressed a quiet mourning for Apex’s sacrifice—understanding that it was thanks to her final act that Holly even had a place to exist at all.

Holly’s voice pulled Aurora from her thoughts. The logs indicate that you are within an acceptable time frame for your preferred arrival pattern, she noted, ever efficient. However, you may wish to factor in a minor delay due to the unfolding chaos below.

Aurora blinked. Wait—what? She glanced down and immediately saw the problem. A massive, hulking figure moved through the streets—a towering humanoid form, nearly eighty feet tall, its stone-like body rippling with molten veins. Its squid-like head, blackened and charred, pulsed with a sinister red glow.

Oh, come on.

Aurora adjusted her flight path, angling downward for a closer look. The creature’s tentacles lashed outward, every strike leaving behind searing devastation—empty parked cars melted upon contact, streetlights snapped like twigs, and the asphalt itself cracked beneath its lumbering weight. She wasn’t the only one who had taken notice.

Two San Isidro police officers had already pulled over, jumping out of their squad car, their guns drawn and raised. One of them called out, voice firm but carrying an undercurrent of uncertainty.

"Get on the ground! Now!"

Aurora winced. “Yeah, that’s not gonna work,” she muttered, watching as the officers took cautious steps forward.

Holly chimed in instantly, her tone as smooth as ever. Indeed. Threat assessment suggests a high resistance to conventional weaponry. I estimate a ninety-two percent probability that it will respond with indiscriminate violence.

Aurora had a bad feeling about how this was about to play out.

And then—it happened. The creature barely reacted to the officers’ warnings. It didn’t acknowledge them, didn’t even bother with a growl or a glare. It simply reached out—massive tentacles curling around the nearest car—

And then, with effortless strength, it flung it directly at them.

Aurora’s stomach dropped.

“Sweat drops,” she muttered, already moving.

Holly, ever literal, deadpanned in response. Correction: Sweat drops and immediate intervention required.

Aurora had to agree. With a sharp beat of her wings, she angled forward, diving toward the fight unfolding below.

Time for Aurora to clock in early today.

While the car was still hurtling through the air, Aurora swept in and released several precisely tuned blasts to knock it clear of anyone and into an empty area of the street. Once the car had safely come crashing down, she further pushed it to the side and away from the combat arena. The monster, in the meantime, lost interest since the cops had ceased firing.

Well, the thing wasn’t an overly aggressive giant monster at least. It was just… comparatively giant.

One of the cops she’d saved was already arguing with his fellow officer, “I’m more worried about putting a stop to that thing rather than getting people away. We need to take it down, pronto!” he said, leveling his gun at the monster again.

His partner put a hand on his shoulder. “Come on, man, give her a shot. Let’s try and get people back. We can always break out the shotgun if she fails.”

The other man frowned but nodded. “All right, we’ll see what she can do,” he said.

The monster growled and postured, starting to smash its way down another street. People were abandoning their cars and fleeing while the cops nearby were keeping other people back.

Taking the moment of relative quiet to form a game plan, Aurora flitted up after the behemoth and unleashed an experimental blast on the back of its squiddy head.

Her blast struck true, and it spun, feeling the force of the light strike. It roared at her, tentacles flipping and flopping wildly. It reached out and grabbed a metal pole where the crosswalk lights stood nearby.

The pole wasn’t able to handle the heat as it started to smoke, melt, and wilt as the giant tried to pry it up. Two tentacles grabbed the bent shaft of the light pole and flung it up into the sky, roaring loudly again.

Having had some time to prepare due to how ponderously it moved, she folded her wings to let the object simply pass over her as she fell toward the street. Once the makeshift javelin was no longer a threat, she simply spread her wings again and pushed herself into the air once more.

Aurora paused and spoke. “Alright, so you can see and feel just fine, Squidward. How about your ears? Can you talk, or is all you can say ‘Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!’?” Aurora yelled loudly. She wondered if this was one of the monsters created by Padua. Or was it one of the actual monsters that lived off in the Pacific Ocean? If it was one of those kids or a camp counselor, it was a particularly nasty mutation. Still, she wasn’t going to be incautious and prepared to defend herself as she awaited a response. She needed to know how much of a mind the thing had, if any.

“HHAAAAAAAAAAHT! AAAARRRRRRHHHAAAAAHT!” it yelled and hugged itself, the tentacles still whipping about.

Aurora understood intuitively. It was hot… burning itself up, rather. Maybe it was looking for water. “Hey, did you just say ‘it’s hot’? I’ll take you to the water. Will you trust me to bind you and carry you there?” she yelled. “I won’t harm you. If you need something else, tell me, but I get the feeling you’re hot and uncomfortable right now. Did I guess that correctly?”

It seemed to quiver for a brief moment before suddenly trying to grab its own tentacles. Each appendage seemed to move erratically, uncontrolled, like they had a mind of their own—some even seemed like they were actively resisting. The giant howled, holding on to the majority of its unruly tentacles, but they were wriggling and whipping around too much, causing a ton of collateral damage. It was literally fighting itself for control. Trying to be free. It shook its head slowly, almost losing its grip on some of the tentacles again.

Inside Aurora’s mind, Holly’s voice chimed in with analytical precision, but a hint of concern. Its heat signature is rising exponentially. Internal energy sources appear unstable. If it continues in this state, spontaneous combustion is not out of the question.

Aurora gritted her teeth. “So, we need to get it to water fast.”

Affirmative, Holly responded. Preferably before it turns downtown into an unintentional bonfire.

Aurora huffed as she eyed the monster. “You know, this isn’t the first giant monster I’ve had to fight.”

There was a long pause before Holly’s voice, noticeably more flustered, piped up. Mou! Aurora, that’s not necessary to point out.

“Oh, I think it is,” Aurora teased. “Remember the Sentinels’ Kitchen? It was the first time I faced a yandere and a giant monster.”

Holly let out a small, electronic-sounding pout. I have already assured you, that was a miscalculation in my emotional processing, Aurora. I will be a good AI. There is no need to tease me over my… prior meltdown.

Aurora smirked, her wings flaring as she prepared to intercept the monster’s next attack. “Just making sure you don’t forget.”

Aurora knew she had a huge problem here and swooped in to form a ball construct around the giant’s entire body using her halo power. She focused as best she could on constricting its massive form, but she left its head uncovered, deciding that it had the most control there.

“I can tell how much you’re struggling. It seems hard to restrain those tentacles, and I appreciate the effort. It might be a bit stuffy, but I’ll fly very fast. We’ll be over water in no time flat!” Aurora gritted her teeth, feeling the violent thrashing against her halo. She used every drop of focus she had to keep the flailing appendages contained while also applying her aura to the whole mass and lifting off.

She made a beeline straight toward the ocean, the most obvious and least problematic body of water in the vicinity. The giant’s bulk was immense, nearly impossible to carry. The sheer weight pressed down on her wings, threatening to drag her back to the ground, but she gritted her teeth and forced it.

“Just hold on tight!” Aurora strained, her voice barely escaping through the pressure against her chest.

As she carried the giant, she could feel its unrelenting strength, the heat rolling off its body in oppressive waves. Already, her containment construct was weakening, its edges flickering, the intensity of the monster’s furnace-like heat working against her energy field. The strain on her arms, wings, and core was immense as she twisted and dove, trying to keep both of them as high up as possible.

She was racing against time.

Remembering how heatsinks functioned, she tried to modify her construct, shaping it into ridges and channels that might help dissipate the overwhelming heat. She didn’t know if it would work the way she hoped, but any reduction in temperature could make a difference.

“Holly, got any ideas? I’m trying to dissipate some of this blasted heat.” she asked desperately.

Indeed, Holly responded immediately. The most efficient heatsink design you can construct under current conditions is a finned radial array with high-surface-area cooling channels. If possible, integrate a lattice structure with perpendicular slits to maximize airflow. Additionally, shaping it to direct excess heat outward rather than trapping it within the structure will improve efficiency.

Aurora rapidly adjusted the construct’s formation, adapting Holly’s suggestions into something she could feasibly create in the moment.

The problem was getting to the ocean. It was starting to look like a pipe dream under the circumstances.

Desperate for a closer solution, she spotted a fountain below—her heart leapt for an instant, only to sink immediately. There were too many people nearby. The last thing she wanted was to hurt anyone in the process of saving this thing.

Her modifications were helping slightly, but she still wasn’t sure she could make it. Regardless, she was no quitter. The creature had stopped screaming, but it was still thrashing wildly, fighting some unseen internal war.

She simply had to get him to the ocean.

There was little choice left, but maybe even a smaller body of water could buy some time. A backyard pool? A reservoir? Anything sizable enough to at least mitigate the worst of the heat?

She couldn’t give up. She wouldn’t.

As she twirled and moved through the streets, the bindings started to crack again.

She gritted her teeth and pulled up higher, scanning the rooftops. Then—her eyes locked onto a water tower. She had no idea who owned it, but she silently hoped they would forgive her.

With a final burst of energy, she slammed the creature into the tower, rupturing the tank.

Water poured over the monster’s searing-hot body, and for a moment, hope surged through her—

Then—BOOM!

A minor steam explosion erupted, sending out a deafening hiss as the water instantly turned to vapor, billowing upward like thick, rolling fog. She couldn’t entirely see the effect, but she could feel it—

It’s not enough.

The steam escaping from the cracks of her halo was whistling, a sharp reminder that the heat was still far too intense.

Aurora, Holly interjected, her tone brisk but tinged with urgency. Collateral damage is escalating. That steam explosion destabilized nearby structures, and I estimate structural integrity failures within five minutes if this continues. You have approximately three minutes and forty-seven seconds to reach the ocean before critical thermal runaway occurs.

Aurora swore under her breath. “So, in other words, I’m out of time.”

Correct, Holly affirmed. You need a clear path and a way to reduce heat more effectively in transit. I suggest increasing altitude to minimize civilian exposure.

Aurora nodded sharply, adjusting her trajectory. If she was going to make it, she had to move now.

Still, the brief cooling effect gave her just enough of an opening to reinforce her construct.

She spun sharply, using the momentum to release the construct for a split second, sending the monster hurtling skyward.

Aurora chased after it immediately, forming a curved wall of energy and redirecting the monster’s trajectory, angling it toward the water.

One step closer.

Her training since going to the Kitchen had often consisted of exercises to expand her mind to maintain multiple constructs at once, and she was pushing that skill to its limit now. Like a massive, superheated pinball, she controlled its fall, shifting the walls of energy to catch, redirect, and reposition the tumbling mass.

She shot ahead, building the next section of her energy pathway, forming one new leg of the road after another, guiding it, forcing it toward the sea.

Her body burned with exhaustion, but she didn’t stop.

Finally, the ocean loomed ahead.

Aurora added tethers to the high points of the half-pipe she had created, shaping the construct into a sling. Then, using its momentum, she applied as much centripetal force as she could muster, spinning the monster like a morningstar flail or a massive pendulum.

Her arms trembled, her wings shuddering as she fought against the force.

She could only guess at the timing—but she trusted her instincts.

With a final pull, she let go.

The monster flew toward the ocean, launched like a comet, but she hadn’t fully released the tether in time.

The force dragged her along with it, yanking her through the sky.

She barely had the presence of mind to react, but at the last second, she threw everything into slowing their velocity, flaring her wings, pushing against the drag to turn their landing into something controlled.

They cannonballed into the water at the same time, just as her halos finally gave out.

Aurora winced, bracing for the worst—but thanks to how much reverse force and the force bubble she had applied, she didn’t sink too deeply.

Hopefully, the giant hadn’t been harmed and would simply swim away peacefully.

Inside her mind, Holly’s voice returned, but instead of her usual calculated tone, it was brimming with awed excitement. Aurora, that was incredible! The precision, the timing! That was like something out of a high-stakes action film!

Aurora huffed, still catching her breath. The pocket she’d managed to form around herself wasn’t large so she’d need to surface for air immediately given how much she was huffing and puffing. “Glad you enjoyed the show. Next time, maybe remind me not to go along for the ride?”

Holly let out a small, almost playful giggle. Noted! But still, I must insist—your execution was practically poetic. If I had hands, I would be applauding.

Aurora smirked, shaking her head. “Thanks, Holly. Now, let’s just hope our squid friend here actually wants to stay in the ocean.”

As she swam up, she felt the water around her heat up intensely.

The moment she broke the surface, she leapt into the air, wings spreading wide, sending a shower of seawater spraying in all directions.

Hovering, she took a deep breath, trying to regain her bearings.

Now, she needed to see if the monster was still alive.

There were clouds of steam and bubbles rising from the spot the giant had gone under. She didn’t see it resurfacing though, causing Aurora to curse softly under her breath. After having gone to such lengths, she was not going to let this whole thing end with whoever it was drowning. She formed a capsule-type barrier around herself and dove in smoothly. Underwater, she spotted the hulking monster quite easily. It wasn’t moving. At least the water was working, cooling it down.

Throwing her arms around the thing, she pulled its head into the capsule around her while she put more of her aura around it and flew upwards out of the water. She flew to and set down on the nearby beach, which was thankfully empty for the moment. All the while, the glowing of the creature had ceased. In fact, it was becoming more and more grey as though it was dying. Aurora worried about whether she’d made the right choice.

The giant’s entire torso slumped over itself onto the sand, unmoving, though its skin started to crack and cool further. Aurora touched it and sighed softly. It had completely become immobile, the stone having solidified to create a giant sculpture out of what had just been a giant eldritch abomination.

Holly’s voice chimed in, quieter than usual, carrying an unusual note of concern. Its core temperature has dropped considerably. No further heat buildup detected. However, cellular activity is... nearly nonexistent. There was a pause. Aurora, I believe it has entered a dormant state rather than perished entirely. It is as if it is—hibernating.

Aurora plunked down on the sand, physically exhausted from holding the containment around the creature. She had to catch her breath.

You stabilized it, Holly continued. Whether or not that was the right choice remains to be seen, but given the alternative, I would categorize this as the preferable outcome.

Aurora exhaled, staring at the massive, petrified form. “Yeah… let’s hope so.”

She didn’t get much time to rest, though, as she soon heard something like a cry coming from a long distance away.

Aurora looked at the monster, wondering. It was coming from what seemed like a mouth… really just a hole in the stone where a mouth should be.

Holly’s voice returned, this time tinged with curiosity. That sound does not match its prior vocalization patterns. If it is communicating, the parameters have changed… significantly.

Shocked, she quickly realized what was happening and cast her healing, hoping she could revive the giant. Her halo went around it but it did not dissipate and the more direct and powerful form of healing she’d mastered wasn’t having any effect on it either.

Aurora laid her hands on it and released a full blast of her healing light on it, imbuing it with as much as she could. However, with nothing happening she knew that her efforts were in vain. What did happen though was that she heard something midway through so she stopped and put her ear close to the hole.

“Hlllp… cnt breeev…” It was faint, and yet there.

She surrounded her hands with her field and pounded on the chest of the creature as hard as she could while also taking care not to cave in on the person inside. The stone started to chip and crack each time she struck; the beak of the squid-head cracked completely off the body. The giant’s remnants were actually quite like quick-hardened ash.

Would anything come from her hard work? Chip by chip the stone crumbled…