Sangno and Jorge kept their eyes on Liam. He looked wrong, shaken by the night's strange turns, yet the wound on his leg was only a shallow gash.
They muttered to each other, low and sharp. Liam read their mouths more than he heard their words.
He knew what would come next. They found him too healthy. Too untouched still despite them both missing a limb and a weapon.
Liam retreated toward the source of the light. For a heartbeat there was only glare and silence.
Then he saw them. His men. All dead.
The sight hit him like a fist to the throat. Rage swelled fast, hot with grief.
No enemy stood waiting. No figure stepped forward to claim the work.
Just bodies and the cold fact that nobody would ever answer for it.
Liam's anger needed a target. With none to strike, he chose to hide. He chose to live.
Sangno and Jorge arrived at the bloodied site moments later and froze as if the corpses had spoken.
