Veda observed Lyra, Freed, Felix, and Matthey in silence. His eyes moved from one to the other slowly, not rushed. Then he glanced behind him.
His group had created distance already. Good.
"Ahh…" he exhaled softly.
Lyra tilted her head, looking toward Veda's retreating teammates. "Those cowards really left you alone to fight for yourself," she chuckled, gripping her scythe tighter. The curved blade glinted faintly under the dim maze light. "I wonder what faces they'll make if they see you actually dead."
"I wonder too," Veda replied calmly.
Freed and Lyra vanished at the same time.
They didn't shout. They didn't warn him.
Freed had one gun in his right hand and a slim, mid-sized sword in the other. Lyra's scythe came from the side like a crescent moon cutting through darkness.
Both blades slashed down on where Veda stood.
But Veda was gone.
Their pupils shrank.
They both looked down at the same time… and felt a heavy impact slam into their stomachs.
