Lucian was the one to give the go ahead with a simple nod of his head. Marc moved first, the outermost anchors that had been holding their camp’s barrier network shuddering before snapping free from a localized shift in space. The containment field had flickered away, the light from the frames strobing before they could react. Silas was already out in the open, breaking up the left defenses with an impact that sent divots of ground into the air.
Lucian was in the center, cutting straight through the first escort. The man turned too slow to bring up his containment rod, and Lucian was already on him with a step, knocking him away before the second could bring his own weapon up. A construct loomed to his right, taller and segmented in joints, designed for suppression work rather than combat. Lucian caught its outreaching arm as it went to smash into his ribs, wrenched it free by the elbow, and tore the core casing from its body. The machine fell in pieces to the ground.
Shouts rang out from the camp in response. Silas crashed into the left defenses again, breaking through a pair of escorts that tried to lock together in defense. He took the next suppression field to his chest and shoulders, the energy in it forcing him to his knees for a heartbeat before he reversed the flow back into the next construct with enough force to flatten it. There was still residual energy in his good arm as he pushed forward, sparks catching on the edge of the next guard’s uniform. Marc had been working the far side, his movements careful as he took anchor points out, one after the other. A gravity shear pinned three escorts long enough for the collapsing field to finish them off. A construct shifted its plating to try and compensate, but Marc forced the space inside its chest cavity to crush before moving on.
Lucian was back to the center, where a pair of heavier constructs had taken up position. They had been linked at the core, meant to hold high value prisoners. Suppression fields flared from both, the air around him thickening, but Lucian marched right up to them. The first field failed against him, the second only lasting a second before his reach found the junction between them. He severed the link from the inside and both machines dropped to the ground.
The center of the camp was open, the field over the captives already failing under the pressure of Marc’s work. Cracks of light split through the air, and Evelyn was up first, one hand already on Lucy’s shoulder. Reia was at the front of the group, her expression taut as she kept her distance from Althea and Vyn, but her wrists still bound from the cuffs. Finn had Mira mostly hidden behind him, and Dorian looked like he was about to murder someone.
Lucian reached them as the last of the field failed. "Can you move?" he asked Evelyn.
She met his eyes and gave a slow nod. "We’re mobile."
Lucy already had Althea close, but Reia’s gaze was on Lucian again a second later, her look softening as Silas broke through the last of the left defenses. "You’re late," she said.
Silas exhaled a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "You’re welcome."
A group of escorts was already forming up at the far side of the camp, trying to get into position. Marc dropped a containment field over them and collapsed it before anyone could react, putting an end to their effort. One final construct came in from the right, overhead, but Lucian caught the space in its joint and sent it to the ground.
"Move," he said, and they did. Marc opened a safe path back toward the ridge they had come from, and kept it stable as they passed through. Silas took up position at the left rear, putting down anyone who tried to follow. Lucian was center rear, his eyes on the camp as it continued to dissolve behind them.
Two escorts took up a final angle shot, but Lucian met them in the middle and ended them both, keeping the formation intact. A suppression charge flared at the edge of them, and Finn caught some of the energy on a hastily raised barrier before staggering forward. Mira caught his arm and pulled him along with the rest of their group.
The ridge came up fast, and Marc kept the path open long enough for them to reach the other side before letting the space close behind them. The sounds of the camp were left behind, muffled by the shifting air and dust. It took them a few minutes before they stopped again, long enough for distance and cover to come between them and the holding site.
Silas dropped to one knee, breathing hard, his injured arm pressed to his side. Marc wiped at the blood on his nose and took stock of everyone else with a single glance. Lucian stood at the far end of their cover, looking back the way they had come.
No pursuit yet.
Evelyn moved up to join him, silent for a moment, before returning her attention to the camp. Lucy kept Althea close, and Reia was already checking over Silas’s injuries with practical efficiency, muttering about fools who didn’t know when to lay down and take a hit. Finn, Mira, and Dorian stood close together, the last of the suppression fields still draining from them.
"You all right?" Marc asked first. "That was a holding position, not a transport node. They were waiting."
Lucian was looking back at the camp. "For me."
Silas looked up at that. "Warden?"
"Her people. Not her." Lucian’s jaw was tight as he stared at the broken lights of the camp. "She wasn’t there. This was still a secondary movement."
Reia finished tying off a strip of cloth around one of Silas’s ribs before settling on her haunches to look at him properly. "Then she’s going to be disappointed."
"She already knows," Lucian said simply.
They formed a tight group under the cover of the ridge, injuries checked over, bindings stripped away from wrists and legs. No one wasted time on explanations, though it didn’t take long for everyone to understand what had happened. The keep had emptied cleanly, leaving the trail between their camp and it bare. The staff there had done well to put up resistance, but it hadn’t been enough to stop them once Lucian had gotten through. Evelyn was watching him for a long moment, expression unreadable, before she looked back toward the ridge.
"They wanted you away from the keep," she said quietly.
"Yes."
"And now you’re not."
Lucian turned from the ridge for the first time. "No. I’m not."
The last of the camp’s light died in the distance. The land beyond their cover went silent. Whatever came next would be from a different direction.
Lucian looked over his group again, his injuries, his tired stance, and began to move them forward. There was still more distance to cover before any of them could stop.
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