The Poisoned Air
Lyra moved like a whirlwind of concentrated fury. Thomas Carlisle, now in his full wolf form, lunged first, his snarl a twisted echo of the loyalty he once feigned. His hybrids, sleek and fast, fanned out, attempting to cut off her escape routes to the generator. But Lyra wasn't interested in escape; she was interested in destruction.
"You're a fool, Thomas!" Lyra snarled, dodging a sweeping claw from a hybrid, the wind of its passage stirring her hair. Her crossbow, emptied of its last strategic bolt, was now a bludgeon. She spun, smashing its stock against the hybrid's jaw, sending it reeling. "Elias will sacrifice you the moment you're no longer useful!"
"He sees the future! You cling to a dying past!" Thomas roared, circling, his movements precise and calculating, u
