The armor is heavy on my shoulders but I barely feel it. I welcome it, in fact. It's kept me alive so far. The pressure of building power pushes against me, burning through the metal and scorching my skin, bruising my damaged body, crushing my chest so tight I have to fight for breath. I force my lungs to inflate out of sheer spite, scream in defiance, voice already parched and cracking.

My magic pulses, as weary as I am but refusing to quit as ...