Page 166 of Scarlet Wars
How the hell did he do that?
“No,” he said simply. “I won’t.”
His voice was too calm.
“Now, let me show yourealpower,” Caden whispered viciously, nodding once, before he took a step sideways, giving me room.
“Move!” I shouted.
Then I unleashed my haze.
The ground beneath my feet shuddered as a dark crimson wave of energy ripped through the air with a thunderous roar. My right hand slammed into the earth, and a jagged wall of rock and debris erupted upward, splinters of stone screaming through the air.
My Nexus burned in my palm, white-hot. My haze surged outward, dark red tendrils of energy wrapping around my arm and crawling up my shoulder like living fire. With my left hand, I reached into the threads I knew well, twisting them apart, forcing them to my will.
And the worldsplit.
Portals flared to life around the border, left and right, ripping through the fabric of reality with a violent hum.
And through them came the people I had silently called upon moments ago, every single Offensive of Crown stationed at Kanata C.
Every single Offensive of Kanata C.
Then those I’d called in from…Slava.
Armed. Ready.
More than a thousand figures stormed through the swirling void, dark shapes silhouetted against the blinding green light of the portals. Armor clinked. Steel flashed beneath the low light.
Haze flickered like fire along their hands and their blades.
And then, the most feared Leader of all—Petru Stoyan—stepped through.
THIRTY-NINE
EMMA
Petru’s imposing frame was wrapped in black armor, the brutal edge of his sword gleaming beneath the portal’s light. His gaze burned as his maroon haze swirled around him like a storm barely contained.
Another girl stepped through, with long black hair spilling down her back, dark eyes blazing with fire. A sleek, sword-like weapon spun fluidly in her hand as more than fifty men surrounded her, their own weapons raised, energy crackling around them in synchronized threat.
More came through. And more.
The Offensives of Crown, Kanata C and Slava, all closed in around the Chiefs with grim, dangerous efficiency.
No hesitation. No fear.
The Chiefs’ weapons lifted in near-unison, their haze pressed against the air like an invisible wall of force. But they were outnumbered. Outgunned.
Andeveryoneknew it.
Petru’s mouth curled into a weird and rather creepy smile, as the High Chief’s eyes swept over the gathered Offensives: their strength, their numbers, the ferocity in their stance.
Caden’s whiskey eyes glittered with dark amusement when he stepped toward the Chief. “Well,” he said, his tone dripping with mockery. “May I present to you, oh powerful United Chiefs…” He gestured to the assembled Offensives with a sweeping flick of his hand.
“The only power that really matters: loyalty.”
A low growl rippled through the air. The Chief’s gaze flicked toward the surrounding Offensives, his weapon still raised, as he ran some calculations. Or so I assumed.
