Snow took the sound and gave it back as a low hiss. Breath fogged, thinned, vanished. The line of trees above them held still like a stage that hadn't decided which play to put on.
They stepped into the gap they'd opened - miners staggering behind Keahi's blade and Hikari's hands, Gravers gritting through wounds that should've put them on their backs. The first rush had broken. The second was waiting.
Shapes shook loose from the dark between trunks.
Not smart. Not coordinated. Just hunger made into angles. Human silhouettes first - the weak ones, almost kind in their wrongness - then taller things with joints where joints shouldn't be, arms too long by an insult, barbs that didn't belong to anything living.
"On me" Raizen said, and didn't bother sounding like a leader. He took the left lane and cut the first one clean as if he'd been born to make that exact shape with his blade. Light flared gold, brief as a heartbeat, then died.
"Roof" Esen said, already moving.
