Amari's blade hovered just above the spear wielder's throat, his breath ragged, his shoulder screaming with pain. The forest around him was a ruin of smoke and splinters, but for a moment, everything was still.
Then he saw her.
A flicker of movement beyond the treeline—small, fast, unmistakable. The girl. She was running, barefoot and wild-eyed, tearing through the underbrush like a deer bolting from a fire.
Amari's heart dropped.
She was supposed to be secured. Watched. Contained.
He stepped back instinctively, eyes tracking her silhouette as it vanished between the trees. His mind snapped to the mission. The Ocean brothers. The rendezvous. The leverage she represented. If she reached the ridge—
A sharp crunch behind him.
Amari spun, but too late.
The gauntlet fighter, bloodied and half-collapsed, had surged up from the dirt with a roar, both fists glowing red. He lunged, aiming to crush Amari's spine with a double-fisted Tremor slam.
Amari didn't think.
He moved.
