[i]Alyssa stopped what she was doing, looking around in sudden fear. There was nobody there left; nobody to help her if something attacked her, nobody there to hear any cries for help. Instinctively, Alyssa pulled what looked to be a lightsaber grip from the brown, leather belt strapped on the waist her skinny jeans, hitting a button. A glowing, golden yellow, HardLight blade extended from it, three feet in length, an inch and a half in width. It was straight and thin, sharp enough to cut clean through flesh and bone; a gift from Treyman himself, which was accompanied by a flying steam train, however that wasn't in the courtyard, clearing. The fingers on her prosthetic right hand gripped the HardLight sword tightly, as Alyssa spun, looking for the source of the discomfort. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead, fear clear in her eyes, her expression; yet she held her ground, refusing to run.[/i]