Simon lifted his face from the stone and spat out grit mixed with blood.
A shallow gully stretched below him. Dry grass clung to its edges, and a crooked boulder leaned over the bend. Behind the ridge, dust from the destroyed staging ground climbed into the sky.
No tents. No soldiers within sight.
For the moment, nothing was falling toward his head.
"Fuck."
He tried to move his right arm, but pain travelled into his shoulder, and the Chaos Wraps tightened before the damaged wrist could bend beneath the sword.
His escape had torn open injuries that had barely begun healing. Blood ran from his nose onto his lips, and one leg trembled when he drew it beneath himself.
'Should have landed somewhere softer.'
The thought earned him a bitter smile.
He had not chosen this place for comfort. It had been the first usable destination his failing perception caught while Heavenfall Arsenal descended.
Simon looked toward the crooked boulder.
"The gully beyond the supply lines…"
