The smog swirled thick and gray over the ruined city. From above, many arms glowed like twin moons.
A child watched from a cracked doorway as three red-eyed machines converged below.
Maa Durga stepped forward and raised her left hand. A beam of pure white light shot from her fingertips.
The machine went still. Its lens faded to dark glass. A distant rumble echoed—the others were closing in.
She turned and raised both middle hands. A net of shimmering silver light descended, trapping the second machine.
The child watched, breath fogging in the suddenly cooler air. The third machine let out a screech and charged.
Maa Durga lifted all ten arms. A wave of golden light exploded outward.
For a heartbeat, everything was white. Then the light faded.
The machine lay peacefully dormant. Its red eye was gone. Only a soft blue pulse remained.
The child looked up, mouth open, as the smog tore apart to reveal a sliver of blue sky.
Maa Durga lowered her arms. The remaining smog lifted like a curtain drawn back.
Sunlight bathed the street. The child stepped into the light and reached for a green shoot pushing through a crack.