"All the time in the world." The words hung in the freezing air of the ruined bedroom, a death sentence delivered with a smile. Alex’s spirit recoiled, a raw, primal instinct screaming against the sheer impossibility of escape. He looked at Clara, huddled and trembling, then back at Elena, floating with effortless grace, a figure sculpted from moonlight and malice. A spark of futile defiance ignited within the pit of his despair.

  With a surge of adrenaline overriding the agony in his broken arm, Alex snatched a jagged chunk of concrete debris from the floor with his good hand. Grunting with effort, he hurled it with all his might directly at Elena’s hovering form. It wasn't much, a desperate gesture against omnipotence, but it was something.

  The concrete block spun true, aimed squarely at her chest. It struck her left breast with a dull thwack. And stopped. For a fraction of a second, it seemed almost glued to her prominent breast before gravity remembered its claim and the chunk tumbled uselessly to the floor, landing amidst the other rubble without leaving so much as a smudge on her clothing. Elena hadn't moved, hadn't flinched. Her smile merely widened, tinged with pitying amusement.

  "Really, Alex?" she asked, her voice soft, almost chiding. She drifted towards the nearest wall, ignoring the fallen concrete. This section, though damaged, still held part of the structural frame, reinforced concrete and rebar meant to hold up a house. Elena reached out, her fingers closing around a thick, exposed steel reinforcing bar embedded deep within the concrete.

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  With a sound like a giant tearing thick canvas, she ripped the entire section – rebar, concrete, and chunks of brickwork – clean from the wall. There was no visible strain on her face, no tightening of muscles, just a smooth, continuous pull. She held the mangled mass of construction material, likely weighing several hundred kilos, aloft in one hand as easily as if it were a paperweight.

  Dust rained down anew. She turned back to face them, hovering silently, the immense piece of wreckage held casually in her grasp.

  "Everything you build," Elena said, her voice resonating slightly against the backdrop of the still, cold midnight air filtering down from the absent roof, "everything you rely on for safety, for permanence..." She gestured with the torn section of wall. "...I can unmake it in a heartbeat."

  She let the massive chunk of debris fall from her hand. It hit the floor with a deafening crash that shook the entire room, sending tremors through the floorboards beneath Alex and Clara.

  "And I can unmake you just as easily," she added, her glowing eyes fixed on Alex. "Piece by piece. Starting with hope."