Back inside the EXPO, the Crystalhide Rampager stood in the wreckage of the center hall with one arm half-ruined and smoking.
Its left shoulder was no longer a shoulder.
It was a melted crater of black flesh, green acid, cracked crystal, and exposed bone. The limb hung lower than before, dragging against the beast's side as if it belonged to something dead that had not yet understood it was supposed to fall. Every movement pulled wet, molten strands from the wound. Blue veins pulsed angrily beneath the hide, spreading around the damage like lightning trapped under stone.
Across the hall, past the concrete walls and kiosks Jagger had crashed through was nothing but twisted metal, shattered display glass, and rubble. No body. No sign of motion.
For one second after the impact, Marcus looked toward it.
His shield was raised. His stance was set. But his eyes moved.
Just once.
The kind of glance a soldier made before deciding whether a man was dead.
"Jagger!" Marcus barked.
