Samantha arrived in the bedroom finding two soldiers struggling with Michael in the corner, and another, violently dragging Brielle out from hiding under the bed. Sammantha pounced on the soldier, grabbed and twisted his head breaking his neck. She quickly relieved the second soldier of his weapon and engaged hand-to-hand while the third soldier continued trying to restrain Michael in the far corner.

   

   Sammantha paused, hearing the soldier react with intense pain to a powerful snap of static, cracking his fingers like a whip. “Ow, you little—”

From the living room, Jeremy watched the second soldier slap Michael hard, and throw him down on the ground.

       “Michael!” Jeremy yelled before being struck in the back of the head by one of several reinforcements storming the apartment.

       “Fuck it, the order is dead or alive… right?” the soldier said, cocking his rifle and taking aim.

      “No!” Sammantha shouted while soldiers blitzed her, dragging her from the bedroom.           Suddenly, a fold bubble flashed at the end of a bolt of lightning striking the middle of the bedroom floor, the eruption of air sending the burnt soldier crashing into the bedroom wall.

At the strike point, the dazzling light of the fold bubble shrank down to the light radiating from Bethany’s heart as she stood up from landing on one knee. She was wearing a black and white, form-fitting, tactical body suit glistening with stars of the celestial fabric; beneath a glimmering white and gold suit of Macross-style armor.

   Bethany drew a sword formed on her back as if from the air, and pointed at the soldier against the wall while herding the children behind her.  “Threaten my child again, and it’ll be the last thing you will ever do!”

   Bethany bent down, kissed, and hugged Michael and Brielle, squeezing them tight, “Oh, I’ve missed holding you two in real life. Are you all right? You guys, okay?”  

      “Un-huh,” they whined in fear.

      “Don’t worry, we’re going to get out of this,” Bethany said, while the soldier sitting on the floor against the cracked wall, glared at Michael while surreptitiously pulling a sidearm from a thigh holster. He aimed, prompting Bethany to draw a dagger from her thigh instantly, and whipped it through the air, soldier’s hand, pinning it to the wall. “I warned you,” she replied to his screams of pain.