The overhead barriers haven't given way. She's tried multiple times at this point; pushing at them, yanking more water from the gushing wound in the train to slash them like a knife.

Out. Out. She needs out.

She's been stupid, so stupid.

Without success above, she tries again below, flashing back down to the ground to try to sail over the wall.

Again, the feeling of flying . . . but never actually making it anywhere.

Trapped.

At the sound of the voice, her head snaps up, eyes whisking in that direction.

Trapped, and they're going to finish her off.

The water surges, gathers, coalesces, grows . . . into a massive fist that comes slamming downward towards the other's head.