Snow drank the noise and handed it back as a hiss.
They'd punched a hole in the rush. Miners staggered through - white-faced, blood-slick, refusing to lie down. Gravers limped behind them, blades dull with use. The line re-formed, thin, elastic, angry.
Shapes shook loose from the trees again.
Raizen flowed left and met the first three like he'd been waiting his whole life to make those exact cuts. Keahi set a hinge in the center and refused to move. Lynea's fragments took thin, mean bites out of anything that overreached. Hikari's staff stitched the gaps shut.
Arashi slid to the right pocket, the one where everything ugly liked to slip through.
"My turn now. Get ready."
His good hand found the grip. The pistol woke with a low green purr, Luminite core flickering like a heart that knew what came next.
The first Nyx came in too clean - human outline, just wrong enough to make your stomach argue with your eyes. He sighted, breathed once, and tapped.
