The evacuation site was chaos held together by three familiar figures moving with lethal precision.
Butler stood at the shelter's entrance, his palms pressed against the stone archway as glowing runes spiraled under his fingers. The barrier flickered to life, a translucent dome sealing the civilians inside just as a Mistborn's claws scraped against its surface with a hair-raising screech.
"Left flank, tighten!" His voice carried over the blizzard as guards scrambled to obey.
Twenty meters away, the golden-eyed youth moved like a specter through the panicked crowd. He bodily lifted an elderly merchant trapped under an overturned cart, shoving the man toward the shelter with a terse, "Run. Don't look back."
His sword flashed, severing the arm of a Mistborn lunging at a child, the creature disintegrating into mist before its scream faded.