"Shit!"
Nightingale had already spotted the dark silhouette emerging from the shadows, which gave him just enough time to react. Instinctively, he sprinted toward Rose.
Without a second thought, he tackled her to the ground, making her cry out in surprise. At the same moment, the black silhouette hurtled through the air where her head was supposed to be with a loud crack and continued to travel until it landed somewhere else.
Staying low on the ground and fearing the possibility of losing his head, Nightingale swung his gaze toward the spot where the attack had landed but the space was empty. Whatever it was had likely retreated back into the darkness.
He then looked down at the woman beneath him. There was no way to accurately tell what the masked woman was thinking, but judging by her stiffness, she was probably dumbfounded.
It was an awkward position, no doubt, but there was no time to dwell on such trivialities.
He asked, keeping his voice low but urgent:
