The slope looked chewed up.
Snow cut by steps. Craters from shockwaves. Golden dust drifting where bodies had fallen and turned to ash. Miners stumbled through the corridor they'd opened. Gravers came last, bleeding and stubborn. Nobody stopped. Nobody screamed. There wasn't time.
Even more came out of the trees.
Not smarter. Just meaner. Long arms, some with two, some with four… A few carried shapes like shields grown from forearms. One had springy, animal legs and moved like it had been born on ice.
"Left hinge" Raizen said. Calm. Tired enough. Sharp.
He didn't lead with orders after that. He led with speed.
A Nyx cut for a miner's spine. Raizen vanished and reappeared between them. One step, a short dash, a kick, and a slice you couldn't trace with a ruler. The miner lived, but the Nyx didn't. Golden ash lifted and blew away.
