Luke
Luke lay under his blanket, eyes closed, breathing measured. He wasn't sleeping he was resting, as the Bearded Man taught him, mastering the art of hibernation. Thomas lay close by to him, suspended between life and death, yet still breathing.
A metallic whisper sliced through the night air steel sliding from its sheath. Luke's muscles coiled. Camping in enemy lines is always risky, no telling what can come out of these woods. He slipped free of the blanket and snatched the knife he always kept at his side.
Moonlight fractured through the pines as he looked over to the camp's edge. There, over Thomas's prone form, stood Eve. Her sword gleamed. Her posture was rigid with purpose.
"Eve" Luke began, but a sudden, blinding flash stopped him cold.
Between them, a figure of pure light erupted into being. Sophie. She hovered for an instant radiant, unearthly before sweeping a glowing blade in one flawless arc and pinning her to a tree nearby. The strike cleaved through Eve's chest.
Eve gasped, blood staining her lips. "Sophie… I knew it…" Her body slammed into a twisted oak, then went limp.
Silence swallowed the clearing. Sophie's brilliance faded, her form flickering like a dying star.
Luke watch and on his knees. "Sophie?"
From the darkness, Ace staggered forward, eyes wide. "What the hell just happened?"
Ice rose slowly, sword in hand, staring at Eve's motionless body. "Is she… dead?"
Luke pushed himself upright, voice taut. "Yes. And Sophie… she saved us."
Ace shook his head, breath rattling. "Saved us? How?"
Luke cut him off, gaze fixed on where Sophie had stood. "I don't know. But we just gained a wildcard."
The group remained frozen under the moon's pale light, each heart pounding with the knowledge that nothing in this new world would ever be the same.