Traya's grateful for the save. She probably could have righted herself, but only once the stars stopped going off behind her eyes. Now, she's able to take to the air again.
Michael's woman? The thought rings loud in her mind. And what was that about the Yellow Lantern? So little of this made sense.
"Hit him hard, hit him now!" she barked. She was tired of this. All the death, all the insane attempts at getting a rise out of them, all the darkness. None of this was what being a super-hero was supposed to be about.
She fired a blast of blue.
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