The first four of the Vanguard were already breaking into a sprint, their boots thundering against the hardwood. They were the hammer, designed to engage Rex directly, forcing him into a defensive posture and creating chaos through sheer physical pressure.
The next four in the support layer were moving into flanking positions, angling themselves to exploit any opening the Vanguard created. Their role was to intercept Rex if he attempted to slip past the first wave, cutting off escape routes and applying pressure from the angles.
In the final four, the Reserves remained slightly behind the others, moving with a controlled urgency. They were the safety net, the tactical response force ready to plug any gaps or reinforce a failing position.
'Four... four... four...' Rex analyzed, his breathing slowing even as his adrenaline spiked. 'A textbook encirclement pattern optimized for single target neutralization.'
'They expect me to defend, to retreat, to get trapped...'
