Jian pulled himself out of the dazed state when he heard the loud crack of gunfire behind him. It was sharp, jarring—enough to snap through the fog of his mind like a whip. His body jerked instinctively, turning just in time to see Varon crouched beside him, rifle up, scanning for targets. He hadn't even realized Varon had come over.
A few feet away, Eren was shielding both Nansich and Li Wang, who were crouched low behind one of the testing tables. The metal surface was streaked with old blood, and on the floor beside it lay a corpse. It hadn't been moved—it still lay where it had collapsed. Directed death. Jian remembered they had left it untouched.
But that wasn't what made the bile rise in his throat.
The golden blood—thick, luminous, and too vivid—was still pooling on the floor like molten metal. His eyes traced it from the corpse to the cracked tiles and then slowly, with a sick pull of dread, up to the testing pod behind him.
