The forest clearing felt like a pressurized chamber. The late afternoon sun hung low, bleeding a bruised purple through the canopy.
Leo and Mirage stood side by side. It wasn't a planned alliance, but a mechanical necessity. Against Taren or Yariel individually, they had a fighting chance, against both, they were fodder.
"Left side," Leo whispered, his voice low and gravelly. "I'll take Taren's blind spot. You keep Yariel busy."
Mirage didn't nod. She just tightened her grip on her wooden sword until her knuckles matched the bone-white of the Atlantis towers.
He didn't wait for a signal and immediately lunged.
Leo's boots kicked up a spray of dirt as he closed the gap toward Taren. He knew better than to go for a head-on strike. Taren's porcelain arm wasn't just a prosthetic after all, it was much more of a reinforced weapon. Leo feinted a high vertical slash, then dropped his weight at the last second, sliding across the damp grass to aim a low sweep at Taren's organic leg.
