The ceiling groaned under the impact of a distant shockwave, another fracture rumbling down the corridor like the building itself had gasped. Dust showered Seul's shoulders, and she barely managed to step back as a slab of concrete dropped where she'd been standing seconds ago.
Chul didn't flinch. He was already moving.
Another pack of prisoners surged around the corner—more emboldened now, the smarter ones shouting signals, forming clusters. They weren't mindless anymore. Someone was coordinating them.
"South's under too much pressure!" one shouted, swinging a twin-headed flail that sparked with golden runes. "Split their front!"
"Overload the woman!" another yelled. "She's the one controlling the damn field!"
Seul narrowed her eyes. "They're targeting me."
Chul's voice was rough, amused. "Let 'em try."
He stepped forward. A man leapt toward him, fist wrapped in a burning gauntlet, a trail of blue fire in his wake.
Chul caught the punch with one palm.
