The moment I pulled the dagger from my skull, the silence broke.
"What the fuck?" Jolyn snapped, posture shifting sharp.
"Is this guy immortal or something?" Cat said, half-laughing, half-panicked.
G tilted his head forward, slight, measured, ready.
He moved.
The chain snapped at me — no wind-up, no pause. Just intent and force. I couldn't block it. But I had the blade now.
I twisted my wrist and angled it, not to meet the strike, but to deflect.
The chain slammed against the flat of the dagger with a metallic screech, scraped sideways, and veered just wide of my throat.
Momentum shifted.
I didn't waste it. I stepped in.
Cat lunged from the side — high again. Predictable. I ducked under, drove an elbow into his gut, twisted. He folded — right into Jolyn's path.
She adjusted too fast. Mechanical arm snapped wide, blade rotating down from elbow to knuckles like a butcher's hook.
I slipped left. Let her swing into air. Steel hit concrete — sharp, jarring.
