They kept clearing, block after block, the rhythm of it settling into something almost mechanical by the time the tenth pod went down under Joon's electricity. Root after root punched up through the pavement, and root after root fell still under blade or staff or scorched current, the pattern repeating itself so many times that Jin's arms had gone numb to the impact of each strike. Sweat soaked through all six of their shirts despite the cool night, the constant motion and constant vigilance draining something deeper than simple physical effort.
And still the city kept growing around them.
He noticed it first in the small things, a crack he was certain they'd already cleared, thickened again with fresh green by the time they doubled back past it, a building that had been merely leaning an hour ago now folded halfway in on itself, roots thick as his own torso threaded through what remained of its frame.
