'Fuck, fuck, fuck!'
Eli's chest heaved as he stumbled backward, every splash echoing through the cavern like a drumbeat of panic. Cold water clung to his clothes, dragging him down, but his eyes never left Mio.
Silver threads lashed out like whips, cutting the air with a metallic hiss.
One sliced so close Eli swore he felt the sting of displaced air graze his cheek.
"Mio, wait—!" Eli's voice cracked, raw, desperate. "Please, just—just stop for a second! We can talk about this!"
"Shut up."
The reply was cold, sharp.
"But why are you suddenly doing—"
"Shut. Up."
The words cut deeper than the threads. Mio's tone wasn't flat anymore—it was venom, spat with precision, dripping with contempt.
Eli froze. His throat locked. His instincts screamed, louder than ever, flooding his veins with fire.
Another thread lashed forward. Eli twisted aside at the last second, his boots slipping over slick stone.
