Sezel and Vesta remained pressed against the crumbling wall, their eyes fixed on the approaching figures. Three of them walked confidently from the opposite direction, wearing the same jacket-type costumes, same as the Slayers that Sezel had found dead.
"Those are the same jackets you wore when we first met, aren't they?" Vesta asked, her voice just a whisper, only audible to Sezel.
But he was lost somewhere else, his mind a chaotic storm. His face flushed red with a sudden heat. His heart, which had been steady in the face of monsters and death, now hammered a frantic, wild rhythm against his ribs.
A bead of sweat traced a slow, cold path down his temple. 'Too close, too close, too close.' He could feel Vesta's warm breath at his ear when she spoke.
