Leon's eyes stayed locked on the glowing slate in his hand, the signal from his squadmates blinking steady and strong.
"Hope I'm not too late," he muttered, voice tight with urgency.
Without another word, he took off. Boots pounding against cracked stone and scorched earth, Leon dashed across the battlefield like a streak of lightning. The fight had thinned, thanks to Vanguard Taco's bloody storm and Leon's own earlier rampage, the number of demons had dropped sharply. There were still clusters of resistance, but nothing that could slow him down. Not now.
Soldiers flinched as he flew past, startled by the blur of motion and the sheer pressure in his wake. A few turned, weapons halfway drawn, only to lower them with wide eyes when they recognized him.
"Leon Kael…"
"Let him go. If he's running, there's a reason."
There was no question in their voices. Just awe.
