The impact landed.
Rina's fist met bone and muscle, the shock traveling up her arm like a crack of lightning under the skin. The man staggered back two steps, boots digging into the dirt, heels scraping over roots and loose stone.
He didn't fall.
He adjusted instantly, as if the hit had flipped a switch rather than slowed him down.
The guard shifted his grip on the blade and came in again, faster this time. He aimed low, sweeping in for her legs, steel flashing just above the ground.
Rina stepped inside the swing and drove her knee up.
The impact folded into his abdomen with a dull, brutal sound. The man grunted and twisted away, boots skidding as he barely caught his balance. He didn't collapse. He just reset, jaw tight, eyes still sharp.
Behind them, one of the crouching men snapped the capsule open and held it ready.
"Move!" he shouted.
The second croucher surged forward and grabbed the plant, roots and all. Soil tore free as he ripped it from the ground, dirt spilling through his fingers. He cradled it awkwardly, carefully, like something fragile and irreplaceable.
Cael reappeared to the side, a flicker of movement between the trees. Too far to strike directly. Close enough to force attention. Another needle flicked from his hand, spinning once before grazing the arm of the man holding the capsule.
The man hissed in pain, stumbled a step—but he didn't drop it.
They were coordinated. Clearly not the first time they'd worked together.
No shouting. No wild movements. Every step was measured, every adjustment made to buy time.
The capsule man took two steps back. The plant man shifted with him, rotating his body so the root ball stayed shielded between his arms. The guard slid forward again, blade angled low, eyes switching between Rina and the brush where Cael had vanished.
Mira watched from behind the tree, fingers digging into the bark until splinters bit into her skin. Her breathing came fast and shallow, lungs refusing to settle. She wanted to move. She wanted to help.
She didn't know where to go without making it worse.
Rina's stance changed.
She wasn't just blocking anymore. She started cutting off angles, stepping into the guard's space before the blade could build momentum. Her gloves caught the flat of the blade once—metal scraping metal, sparks jumping in a brief, violent flare. She shoved forward, forcing him back toward the exposed roots.
The guard's heel struck a thick root. He shifted instantly, dropping low and smooth, using it as leverage rather than losing balance. He swung high this time, blade cutting for her shoulder and neck in one clean arc.
Rina ducked under it and drove her forearm into his ribs.
He exhaled sharply, the sound forced out of him like air from a punctured lung. Still, he didn't fall.
He was no amateur.
The capsule man barked something sharp and quick to the plant man. The plant man nodded without looking at him and started moving sideways, trying to circle out. They weren't trying to win. They were trying to leave with the plant intact.
Cael moved again.
Not forward.
Sideways.
Like a shadow slipping between leaves. Another needle flew and snapped a thin branch just above the plant man's head. Wood cracked loudly.
The man flinched. Just for half a second.
Rina saw it and lunged.
The guard stepped into her path, blade flashing up to intercept.
Rina raised her forearm and took the hit on the metal-lined glove.
The impact jarred her to the shoulder. Pain shot up her arm, sharp and electric, rattling bone.
She slammed her fist into the guard's jaw.
The sound was wet and solid. The man staggered back, boots digging furrows in the dirt. This time, his knees bent, balance breaking under him.
Mira's eyes widened.
The plant man slipped.
His foot sank into a patch of softer soil and he stumbled, catching himself with one hand. Dirt sprayed. The root ball shifted dangerously in his grip.
Mira saw the opening.
Her desperation drowned out her fear before she could stop it.
"That's—!" she shouted.
Her voice cut through the forest like a flare.
She left the tree.
Cael noticed too late.
"Mira—!"
One of the crouching men snapped his head around at the sound. He swung the back edge of his blade in a tight, controlled arc.
Mira tried to dodge.
She wasn't fast enough.
The strike caught her across the side.
It didn't slice clean. It tore.
Pain detonated through her ribs and flank. The air ripped out of her lungs in one violent rush, leaving her gasping uselessly. She hit the ground and rolled, hand snapping to her side as if she could hold herself together by force.
She screamed.
The sound snapped into coughing almost immediately. Blood came up with it—dark, messy, staining her lips and chin.
Her glasses flew from her face and hit the dirt. One lens cracked. The frame bent.
Mira tried to inhale again.
It failed halfway.
Rina heard it.
Her head snapped toward Mira, vision narrowing, the rest of the forest dropping away. Something inside her broke loose.
The guard slashed at her back.
Rina didn't block.
The blade cut across her shoulder.
Blood seeped from her shoulder as she crossed the distance in two steps.
Her fist crashed into the crouching man's face.
Once.
Twice.
The man dropped hard and stayed down, limbs slack, breath gone for a long, terrifying second.
The plant man froze, eyes wide.
Cael hurled another needle at the capsule man. It struck deep into his thigh. The man stumbled, teeth clenched, but he kept moving—refusing to drop the capsule even as pain twisted his face.
The capsule man ran.
The plant man ran with him.
The guard shouted and rushed Rina from behind, grabbing for her shoulder, trying to drag her off balance.
Rina spun and caught him by the collar.
She slammed him into the tree.
Once.
Again.
Bark cracked and splintered. Leaves shook loose.
His blade slipped from his fingers and hit the ground.
Rina grabbed it.
Her grip tightened.
Her breathing was loud now, harsh and uncontrolled.
She raised the blade.
The guard's eyes widened. His body went rigid against the tree. One hand lifted, slow and useless.
Rina swung.
Cael caught her wrist mid-motion, fingers digging in hard.
"Rina."
The blade stopped inches from the man's throat.
Her arm shook. Muscles screamed. Her jaw clenched until her teeth hurt.
"For her," Cael said quietly. "Don't."
Rina's eyes flicked to Mira.
Mira lay curled on the ground, coughing weakly, one hand pressed to her ribs, the other clawing at the dirt. She looked so small. So fragile.
Rina's expression shifted.
The blade dipped.
Cael tightened his grip.
Then Rina let go.
The blade hit the dirt with a dull thud.
She turned and ran to Mira.
Rina dropped to her knees beside her, hands hovering for a split second—unsure. Fighting was simple. Everything else was hard.
Mira's breathing was broken and shallow. Every inhale stuttered halfway, chest locking up in pain. Blood soaked her sleeve and smeared her mouth.
She tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
Rina pressed down carefully, firm, just below the ribs, adjusting when Mira's breath hitched too sharply.
Mira cried out and arched, then collapsed again, shaking violently.
"I know," Rina said. "I know. Breathe."
Mira tried.
Cael stood guard, eyes tracking the retreating figures until they vanished into the trees. He didn't chase.
They'd taken the plant.
Rina didn't look up.
Her world had narrowed to Mira's breath.
Mira saw the pain in Rina's eyes and tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
Instead, she lifted one shaking hand and struck her satchel twice.
Rina didn't notice.
Cael did.
Understanding flickered across his face. He moved immediately, kneeling beside Mira and reaching for the satchel.