The Guardian froze, trembling, then shattered — light spilling outward, dissolving into the mist.
The silence that followed was absolute.
Cain landed hard, the mud swallowing his knees. His breath came in short bursts. "Mark the coordinates," he said hoarsely. "We're not done."
Roselle lowered her rifle. "You really think another one's coming?"
He didn't look at her. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, where the sky was starting to glow faint red again.
"I don't think," Cain said quietly. "I know."
They buried the Guardian where it fell.
Not because it deserved it, but because nothing else would stop it from twitching.
The light that leaked from its remains had turned the soil glassy. Every step near the corpse crunched like broken mirrors underfoot.
