Savier's heart slammed in his chest.
"Move!" he shouted, launching himself up a crumbling fire escape. His hands gripped cold bars, feet hitting steps three at a time until he reached the top. He ran full speed, launched off the edge, and flew.
He landed on a rooftop, skidded, and kept running.
Johnquis followed behind, Tanker close at his side. The chains at their waists slowed them—dragging, resisting but they pushed forward, sprinting as fast as they could.
Savier was already two buildings ahead. Moving like a blur. A leap. A roll. Another turn. Another jump.
And then, he reached it.
He saw it.
Below—down in the heart of a cratered courtyard, was a squad. Three young Eater Blades, surrounded. Pinned.
Dozens of Eaters circled them like vultures, twitching and shifting with that strange, broken rhythm.
Two Blades were already down. One screamed in pain, pinned under rubble, her leg bent horribly. Another tried to hold the line, blood covering his arm.
