Everything went quiet. The last three Abnormals were down, twitching in pools of dark blood.
Dancer stood still, wiping gore from her mouth with the back of her hand. Johnquis rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.
Savier looked between them. "Okay… we all good?"
Johnquis gave a short nod. "For now."
Without a word, Dancer turned and started walking deeper into the tunnel.
Savier watched her go. "She really never talks, huh?"
Johnquis didn't look at him. "She doesn't waste words on background noise."
Savier scoffed. "Harsh." Then he grinned. "But fair."
They moved out—three shadows slipping into the dark. Savier walked with a bit more bounce, counting in his head.
"Just 700 more feed points. That's like… seven low-levels, or one Abnormal and a couple more, or maybe one Level 2 High Eater. So…" He glanced ahead. "What do you think this hellhole's throwing at us next?"
