The alarms hadn't stopped since the first blast.
The air was thick with smoke and shouts, magic crackling like lightning across the broken hallway.
Yara's blade slashed through another guard's throat before she even looked at him, instincts running faster than thought.
The hatchlings' cries rang through her skull, a chorus of panic that made it impossible to breathe.
Mama! Hurt! Mama!
"Stay down!" Rian's voice roared from somewhere to her right, the edge of command in it sharp enough to cut through the chaos.
His sword gleamed blue with water magic, every swing sending ribbons of liquid slicing through flame and flesh alike.
Yara ducked as a burning beam crashed beside her, showering her with sparks. One of the hatchlings—small, silver-scaled, trembling—tried to shield her, tiny wings flaring wide.
"No!" she shouted, grabbing it, dragging it close. "Not you, baby, not—"
A spell shattered against the wall behind them. Shards of rune-light seared her arm.
