High up off the ground, twists in the air to look back at him, eyes narrowing. She can't understand why he talks so much, why Lesedi would give him the words he's giving her, but it doesn't matter. He's gone for her wings. He means to trap her here.

And she will not be trapped again.

Her arms stretch out towards him, palms bared. The water from the walls, dispelled by the note from his sitar, quivers in response, seeping, aligning into a gleaming latticework that encircles him.

For a bare moment it hovers, waiting.

And then Lapis yanks her hand upward and twists.

Water spouts shoot upward in frantic, angry spirals, shooting nearly as high as Lapis herself. More water is yanked from the pipes and they join the threads, their thickness and power increasing as they converge inward towards Demyx at the center.