The screech of the Ulroks rang loud and primal through the brittle air, echoing across the dunes like a war cry from the earth itself.
They had switched sides.
Where once they came from the rear—easily intercepted by Luke and his inferno—they now burst from the sands ahead, claws and horns cutting their path forward in grotesque unity. The desert floor trembled with their momentum, and the pack's cunning was laid bare.
Luke was on the wrong side.
He spun in place, eyes wide, watching as the monsters curved around and resurfaced in front of the retreating group—Larissa, Commander Valerie, General Charis, Ilyrana, everyone. They didn't need to speak; the dread was already there, rooted deep in each breath.
He gritted his teeth.
"Damn it…!"
He couldn't shoot.
