The second guard had drifted slightly ahead, his back half-turned as his torchlight wavered with each stride.
Tantei's heartbeat pulsed in his ears. Each step drew him nearer, the world shrunk to the space between his blade and the man's neck.
He crouched.
Then — in one clean motion — he surged forward.
The Moto'I club whispered through the air, then skin. A wet, airless phut-thwack.
The guard jerked upright, eyes wide with shock, his hand clamped to his throat as blood gushed between his fingers.
It splattered across Tantei's arm, hot and heavy, painting the earth in red streaks.
The Bati's features were slightly softer and more relaxed, but his jaw clenched tightly, mouth hang open just enough to show his pure disbelief.
The Bati staggered backward, choking high-pitched hiss escaped him.
Kanka darted towards the other seconds later, his Ula club raised high, a silent blur ready to break bone.
But before the strike landed, the other Bati spun with startled speed, his arm whipped out. The —backhand cracked—against Kanka's cheek, a sharp, meaty snap.
As Kanka was sprawled back, there was a brief, rushing whistle of his grass skirt cutting through the air, hitting the ground with a —thick, muddy squelch— as his shoulder and hip plow into the soil.
For a fraction of a second, the only sound was the low hiss of the sea breeze
The Teivakatoga slipped from his grasp, a—clumsy, end-over-end tumble— the whirr of the air displaced by the weight, falling with a deep, muddy thud.
Tambo crouched low in the grass, his body pressed flat, eyes wide. He didn't blink. He didn't breathe. The faint wind hissed through the stalks around him.
The Bati's face twisted in rage. He raised his Gata high, but before the swing came down,
Tantei's hand moved on instinct. The I Ula Gasau flashed through the dark, its fluted ridges catching the humid air with a rhythmic, low-frequency
Wff-Wff-Wff—Sshhh-whirr.
It wasn't a whistle, it was a Vibrating-Hiss
And buried itself in the man's chest with a —Wet-Thud-Krck—
The Bati froze — eyes wide, breath stuttering — before he staggered backward,
his Gata slipped from his fingers, its heavy beak slicing a straight path through the tall grass with a sharp shhh-flick. It hit the mud with a thick, wet phut, the soft earth swallowing the ironwood and holding it tight with a muffled-suction-lock.
The handle followed with a final, flat slap, leaving the air empty and smelling of bruised greens and damp earth.
Blood pooled quickly, dark and heavy against the dirt. He collapsed with a deep, muted thud. He didn't die instantly. He looked at Tantei — confused, disbelief, and pain swirled in the torchlight, that was instantly overwritten by the iron-sharp tang of warm blood pooling into the dirt.
Tantei's breath trembled as he watched the man's eyes stared directly at the him.
The night swallowed the sound. Only the hiss of the sea remained.
Tantei scrambled to Kanka's crumpled form. He went down on both knees, his anxiety overriding his fear, and struck Kanka's cheeks with several hard, sharp slaps—Thwak-tk! Thwak-tk!—enough to jar him back to life. "Hey! Hey! Stay with me!"
Kanka's eyes flickered open, confused and sluggish. His mouth, already bruised, showing thin drips of dark blood.
"Huh?" He took a moment to gain awareness, then pushed himself up with a slow, suffocating Sshff-ghrrut, wiping the blood from his lip with a wet slipp-shhh. "Did you take him out?"
Tantei managed a small, strained smile. "I did."
Kanka looked down at the earth, his fingers pressing against his lip. "Hell of a blow, right on my mouth... it feels numb."
Every few seconds, he would wince, his jaw performing a sharp, involuntary click-pop as he tested the hinge of his mouth.
Tambo ran up, his heavy footsteps ending in a sharp thud-thud-GRRIT as he stopped. His expression was a mix of relief and raw concern, his voice a loud whisper.
"Guys! You scared the life out of me! I thought they would kill you both!" He paused, fixing his eyes on Kanka. "Are you okay? That was quite a strike you received."
Kanka froze, his expression locked in a jagged stare. "No. I just got hit by one of the most formidable people and almost died. I think I'm okay."
He hauled himself up, his neck performing a sharp crck-snap as he shook his head to clear the haze.
Tambo's voice was a low-frequency rumble. "Okay, maybe it didn't come out the right way."
Kanka pivoted his head toward the fallen warriors. "Man… and everybody thought I was the impulsive one." He pulled his head up toward Tantei, his mouth slightly open in feigned shock, a wet slipp of blood catching the torchlight. "You did this?"
"It was a necessity," Tantei replied, his voice a dry, tactical rasp. "But we're not done yet. We still have to save Tolu. We have less than half an hour before the shift."
Kanka glanced toward the shadowed village and the dark sea, where the waves hit the shore with a distant, rhythmic shhh-boom.
His hand was rising in a faltering-arc to his face. His thumb performed a rhythmic, numb-slide over the swell of his lower lip—Sshff, sshff—
"Well, I only hope Konto gets here on time. He's slow, and never takes anything seriously."
He occasionally shifted to his cheek, his fingers performing a circular-grind against the bone. The sound was a dry, grit-on-skin friction that mirrored the restless shhh-boom of the tide.
Tantei's gaze remained fixed on the village line. "He will be on time. He won't let us down." He looked back at his brothers, his eyes narrowing into cold, vitreous orbits. He gestured sharply, his voice a tight, urgent hiss. "Both of you: help me drag him to the side. Quickly."
Tambo muttered a response and lunged for the deceased guard's ankle—thud-slap.
Kanka grabbed the other side, his muscles performing a high-tension-strain against the warrior's massive bulk.
"Wait," Kanka hissed, the body lowering with a dull whump.
"Why can't we at least use one of them as bait?"
"What? And make the guards alarm the village? No way." Tantei's rejection was a sharp, vocal click. "Let's go."
They began the haul. The saturated grass let out a continuous, sodden mush-hiss as the Bati's heavy weight flattened the blades into the mud. It was a rhythmic, wet sh-sh-shrubb sound that vibrated through their own feet.
They worked with urgent precision, heaving the corpse behind the ironwood palisade.
The body hit the shadows with a final, airless thud-squelch, vanishing from the line of sight.
They repeated the protocol with the second guard. The grass groaned again—a steady, damp scrunch-shush—as the heavy bulk was crushed into the earth.
They hauled the limp weight into the deep, indigo shadows of the fence, tucking it away with a metallic clatter of the guard's discarded ornaments against the timber.
The trio stepped away, wiping their hands with a dry, abrasive rub-rub-rub.
Tantei's face turned into a mask of serious intent. "Okay," his chest performed a slow-motion-heave, his lungs demanding oxygen with a pressurized-hiss through clenched teeth—Hnuuu-ssst, Hnuuu-ssst.
"Tambo, Kanka. I need you two to create a diversion. After the shift change, we lure them out long enough for us to get in and safe Tolu, understood?"
Kanka's response was a snap-lock of the neck. His chin dipped, his eyes never leaving Tantei. "Alright," he rasped.
Beside him, Tambo performed a heavy-tilt. His nod was a slow, monolithic-descent, his massive neck muscles bulging like pressurized-cables as his head dipped forward. "Understood," he muttered.
The Silence of the Rewa had been traded for a Pressurized-Hiss. They were no longer shadows hiding from the mountain; they were the fault-line, waiting for the clock to strike the hour so they could finally let the earth scream.