James walked through the destroyed entrance of Dock 7, stepping over twisted metal and broken pieces of the rolling door. Smoke rolled around him from the Corpse Explosion he'd used outside, thick and acrid in the air.
The warehouse was wide and dark. Stacked containers lined the walls, old machinery sat rusted in corners, chains hung from the ceiling, and broken lights swung overhead, casting shadows that moved with each gust of wind through the open entrance.
Men inside were shouting in confusion. Some ran toward the entrance while others grabbed weapons. James counted at least fifteen visible, probably more hiding behind containers.
Then he noticed the details that mattered.
Frost crawled over one man's arms, spreading across his skin like living ice. Fire glowed around another man's fists, orange and flickering. Electricity sparked between a third man's fingers, crackling with each movement.
Awakeners.
