When the vans skidded to a stop, their back doors burst open and a flood of Rejected Corps members poured out.
They came with wide, eager smiles, smiles that didn't belong to men here to talk. Some carried daggers that gleamed under the dull overhead lights, their edges already nicked from use. Others gripped batons, tapping them against their palms like they couldn't wait to swing.
But most didn't even bother with weapons. For them, this was about raw, physical dominance. The thrill of hand-to-hand combat. The confidence that they didn't need steel to win.
"It's okay, Wolf," Abby said suddenly. Her voice was quiet but clear enough for him to hear. "It's alright… you tried your best. You don't have to keep going, it's okay."
