They paid.
Rei's victory was immediate and devastating in its cost. The divine flicker that let him wound the Elder tore through his body: ribs splintered, vision flared violet, the Enso inside him felt singed. He vomited blood and remembered every face of Hurukoya in a single, overlapping scream.
Shira screamed too—not in victory but in fear. She slashed at the third Elder and her foot gave way. Bone crushed. She fell and dragged herself up, every breath a hunted thing.
The Elders did not move with hate; they moved with disdain. A single gesture from one and the clearing became a cage; the air congealed into hunger. The Hunters scattered, useless. The tide of battle had reversed.
Shira knelt beside Rei, hands shaking as she pressed cloth to his wounds. Her lips were white. "I told you," she whispered. "You were never supposed to touch that power without breaking."
Rei's hand found the black stone. It pulsed faint as a dying heartbeat. He clutched it as if to anchor himself.
"We can't win," Shira said. "But we can buy a way out."
She looked up at the Elders...at the distance between them and any hope... and made a choice. Her voice was small but steady. "Get ready to run."