The five golems glided towards them, their movements were silent and unnervingly smooth.
Among them two were taller, more imposing, and each held a net of woven, silvery light.
The other fairies in the park remained frozen, their faces sharing the exact same expression of quiet, shocked offense.
"Oh no," Pip whispered, his voice a dry rasp. "What are those things?"
The lead golem stopped precisely ten feet away, a distance that felt both polite and procedural and a calm, toneless, and deeply procedural voice chimed from its chest: "Halt. We are the Park Patrol for District Seven, assigned to the Lawn Maintenance and Aesthetics Division."
