The Queen's roar shattered the air.
Not sound but pressure.
A wave of force that slammed into Bright's chest and drove the breath from his lungs. The walls trembled. Dust rained from above. The crawlers behind them froze mid-charge, mandibles clicking in unison like a chorus of broken clocks.
Then they scattered.
Retreating into cracks and crevices, vanishing into the dark as if something far more terrifying had just woken up.
Bright's foresight screamed.
Not words this time.
Just a sensation—a crushing weight bearing down on his skull, suffocating, inevitable.
"She's coming," he whispered.
Duncan pushed himself upright, blood running down his temple. "How long?"
"Seconds."
Baggen raised his hammer. "Then we fight."
"No," Adam said suddenly, voice cracking. "We don't."
Everyone turned.
