The floor wasn't slick anymore.
It was frozen.
Hanseong saw it happen right after Jisoo gave the order. The short woman with the shaved head pressed her palm harder against the concrete, and the glassy shine spreading out from her hand turned white. Frost raced across the floor in jagged lines. The air dropped so cold that Hanseong's breath came out of him in a cloud.
It had never been just a slick floor. It had been ice the whole time, a thin, invisible sheet of it. She'd only been holding back.
Now she stopped holding back.
KRRRSSHHHK.
Spikes of ice burst up out of the floor in a long line toward Bora, each one as thick as an arm and taller than a man, sharp as spears. Bora threw herself sideways, and the last spike tore through the sleeve of her jacket and pinned it to the floor for a second before she ripped free.
