Chapter 60: Catalyst Bound, VII
It was no longer survival.
It had become a war.
The square was half ash and fractured stone. Smoke curled through splintered beams. Somewhere behind me, the clock tower let out a long, broken chime—and then fell silent.
Clara moved first. No words, no hesitation. Her thread flared, crystalline and sharp, pulsing outward in calculated bursts as she pulled two more civilians clear of a collapsing shopfront.
Erich was next. He limped into motion, blood still trailing from his temple, but his thread surged with each step. He blinked twice—then blurred into Helene's path, striking her side with a precision that only came from instinct honed through pain.
She staggered.
Not far. Not enough. But it was the first time she moved back.
I followed the opening, thread clicking at my fingertips. I blinked, time bent, and I struck. My palm grazed her shoulder—a minor impact.
But her coat tore.
Helene spun, eyes narrowing. The light behind them had deepened into something cold. Measured.
"Is this what resolve looks like?" she said. "Scraps stitched together with desperation?"