Julius's voice—hoarse, commanding—cut through the chaos like an axe strike.
"Zirel, move! The fissure!"
He didn't wait for an answer. In a single, brutal motion, he hoisted Maggie up and slung her over his shoulder like a sack of grain, ignoring her muffled groan. Gentleness was a luxury they could no longer afford. Survival came first. Zirel understood instantly—he drew his twin daggers and swept his gaze across the battlefield. Their eyes met for a second, a silent nod sealing the plan.
While Dylan—like a swarm of mad fireflies—and Elisa, pillar of sheer willpower, held Alka's attention and her unleashed power, the two soldiers acted.
"Cover us!" barked Julius as he charged toward a gaping crack in the ground, torn open by the last psychic cataclysm. It was a risky shortcut, likely unstable—but it was their only way out.
