The forest burned in two colors now.
Gold from Buzz's blood and blue from the machines that had taken root. Every tree seemed caught between those lights, trembling like it didn't know which side to live for.
Buzz stood in the clearing, chest heaving. His claws still glowed faintly from the tower's explosion. Zza crouched beside him, tying silk over a cut that wouldn't stop bleeding. Her silk had started to shimmer silver—half forest, half machine—just like everything else around them.
"Hold still," she muttered.
He flinched. "You say that every time right before it hurts."
"Then you should know what's coming."
The silk tightened. He winced but didn't pull away. The pain at least reminded him he was still in his body. The hum of the hive had been trying to pull him out of it all night.
Zza's eyes flicked up. "They'll send more. You know that, right?"