Keres uncoiled out of his crouch with the explosive snap of grasshopper hind legs. He covered the twenty feet between himself and Ciel in less than a second.
Ciel fired and fired.
The first round skipped off the side of Keres's chitin like a stone off a pond.
The second round took a chip out of the broken forelimb.
Neither of these things slowed down. Keres came down on him with his good forelimb already swinging that long, serrated blade of an arm.
Ciel, with pure muscle memory and reflex, twisted under it. The serration caught him along the outside of his shoulder. It wasn't a deep cut but a long red line, instantly bright against his skin.
Ciel staggered back and fired again. He missed some, but still fired again.
Grayson was firing as he ran, covering for Ciel. The third one took Keres on the side of the head. It didn't kill Keres, but it was enough to make those terrible bloody red compound eyes flinch sideways.
Enough to break the next swing.
BOOOMMM!!
