"What do you mean not all dead?" Tank's voice had gone very quiet, the kind of quiet that came before violence or panic or both simultaneously.
Zeph kept his eyes fixed on the sitting corpse, watching for another telltale movement, another shift that would confirm what his enhanced perception was screaming at him. "The one against the wall. The skeleton. It moved."
"Corpses don't move," Kael said, but his voice lacked conviction, like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. "They're dead. Dead things don't move. That's literally what defines being dead."
"In normal places, sure," Whisper said, and they'd gone very still in that way that predators did when they'd spotted prey—or when prey had spotted them. "But we're not in a normal place. We're in ruins that breathe and have veins full of blood that transforms people into crystalline monsters. Why would we assume the corpses follow normal rules?"
