The line flexed. Miners stumbled through the corridor Division three and four had carved - their eyes too wide, their faces pale with cold and pain. Gravers limped, blades dull from work, refusing to stop. The next rush pressed at the treeline: silhouettes shaking loose from the dark.
"Shift - left pocket" Raizen called, not too loud, not pleading.
Lynea slid past him.
Two violet rings spun up around her ankles, close and bright as bracelets. They lengthened, and she was gliding - skates of light touching snow, leaving hair-thin purple lines behind. The fragments appeared from her sleeves like a magic trick, humming at a pitch you felt in your teeth.
Hikari took her flank without a word. Her staff swung once, a test, then settled into her palm.
They looked at each other a brief heartbeat, half a smile traded.
"Last one to slow down makes dinner" Lynea murmured, already moving.
"You can barely cook" Hikari replied.
"Exactly."
