"Foolish child," Esmeryl hisses as she barrel rolls upwards to avoid the missiles. Or, the bulk of them, considering she isn't fast enough to avoid everything.

He's lucky she did not drop him. That she didn't angle so it was he who took the brunt of the attack. Maybe she should have. Missiles hurt, and she is almost certain she is bleeding somewhere, yet like every other time she's been hurt in her long life, the Empress weathers it with grace. "A death wish? I can deliver."

Her grip tightens briefly to crushing levels before it eases off to allow him to breathe as she levels out again.

Something in her lasercore constricts and rebels against this treatment of the boy, but this is not her son. Not the child she befriended on a lark that became something more. This one is a means to an end. Useful alive, but just another organic at the end of the day.

"Now be good. Or useful and help locate a park that isn't pink coated."