The earth itself folded the soldier in half, causing his lungs to collapse and a spray of frothy, red blood to erupt from his mouth. But the patrol units were a machine of perfect, brutal efficiency.
As the contact swung a massive slab of debris at the second line, the Voidkin reappeared. They didn't just step back into reality; they materialized behind him with the silent, predatory grace of ghosts.
The contact had anticipated a frontal response from the patrol units. He had not planned for units that could step through the spatial plane.
The transition was instantaneous and devastating. One moment, the contact was pouring every ounce of his life force into a final, crushing blow; the next, the world had shifted.
The Voidkin emerged from the void behind his back, their hands glowing with the pale, cold light of spatial severance.
He was caught in a pincer of reality.
