Hundreds of flying insects poured through the air in a dark wave. Their wings beat in violent unison, distorting the space around them. Each one radiated clear Rank Three pressure, dense and aggressive, their numbers turning that pressure into something suffocating.
They were chasing something.
No.
Someone.
A lone figure streaked across the sky ahead of the swarm, moving low and fast, skimming just above the swamp. Bursts of energy flared intermittently around them as she adjusted her trajectory, narrowly avoiding being swallowed by the mass behind her.
Michael froze.
He recognized her instantly.
"Rynne," he said under his breath.
It was his year mate from the academy. The same Rynne who had always hovered near the top, second only to him.
She was wearing armor.
Not the sleek, sci fi styled combat suit she had used during their fight, but something with a unique appearance.
However, that detail barely registered.
Michael's instincts screamed.
