Gabriel
Swords clashed.
I stepped back, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. The gaunt man was faster than I had expected. Much faster. His dagger slashed through the air, and I barely managed to dodge.
Raphael was fighting wildly. His lance spun in wide arcs, cutting through the dark, but his strikes lacked precision. Every swing was too uncontrolled.
Michael? He moved faster than both of us, but his attacks were impulsive. Too much force in the wrong place. Too little patience.
We were hunters.
But we were not fighters.
Raphael
Damn it.
My hands burned as I blocked the next blow. I had thought we were ready. That our weapons would be enough.
But this wasn't training.
This was war.
Gabriel's curse broke through the night. I saw Michael rolling desperately, barely avoiding a kick aimed at his ribs.
We were too slow. Too uncoordinated.
And if this kept up, we were going to die.
Michael
I knew it before it happened.
The scarred man's blade was coming straight for me. I wasn't fast enough. Not this time. I knew I couldn't dodge it.
I braced myself for the pain.
And then –
The air shattered.
A sound. A noise that didn't come from any of us.
A shadow moved between us and our enemies, faster than my eyes could track.
And then… silence.
Gabriel
The men staggered back.
I couldn't see who—or what—it was. Just a blur of motion, a strike so fast it was almost invisible, a presence that seemed to choke the air around it.
I heard one of them gasp before his body was slammed against the wall.
And then, silence.
When the fog of motion cleared, our attackers were gone.
And our savior?
He was already gone too.
Raphael
I spat blood onto the ground. "What the hell was that?"
Michael shook his head, his breathing heavy and uneven. "No idea."
Gabriel stared into the darkness, his sword still in his hand. "Whoever it was…" He glanced at the blade, as if searching for an answer.
"They saved us."