Jin's words hung in the air, and for a moment nobody moved. The survivors stayed crouched behind their cover, weapons trembling in unsteady hands, too scared to step out and too stubborn to run.
"Last chance," Jin said, tightening his grip on the staff.
Nobody answered.
Joon exhaled through his nose and let one of his spheres drift higher, sparks crawling across its surface in a slow, deliberate warning. "You really don't want to see what this does up close," he said, loud enough to carry across the courtyard.
Seul flexed her fingers, and the gravity around a nearby stack of crates shifted just enough to make them groan and lift an inch off the ground before settling back down. A few of the survivors flinched, gripping their pipes and shards of glass tighter.
"We're not asking again," Jin said, stepping forward.
That was when the hospital doors slammed open.
