*ੈ‧₊˚༺༻*ੈ‧₊˚*ੈ‧₊˚༺༻*ੈ‧₊˚
Before Z-34 could fall completely, instinct took over.
His hand shot out, slamming hard against the cliff's jagged edge. The skin on his palm tore instantly—blood slicking the rock—but he held on. His boots scraped violently, the heels digging into the edge until half of his body dangled over the abyss.
Below him, Liu Xian dangled from his ankle, his other hand gripping a jut of stone that was already cracking under their combined weight. The roar of the river below swallowed everything—their curses, the shouting, even the fire's crackle behind them. Wind tore past them in violent gusts, cold and sharp, whipping at their clothes and hair.
"Fuck!" Z-34 bellowed, his voice raw, desperation leaking through the anger. "Let go, you psycho!"
Liu didn't answer. He just held on tighter, blood from his nose smearing across Z-34's pant leg as his grip refused to budge.
