In that instant, reason and rational thought were useless.
Driven by instinct and fear, Mai Mingle moved without a second thought.
In the hair's breadth of a gap between the number "1" vanishing and the explosion starting, she still managed to do one thing.
Mai Mingle had been standing by the door talking, resting her hand on the frame several times. The moment the red countdown numbers flashed into view, the hair on her arms stood on end. She subconsciously swiped her hand across the door—
And in what felt like the very next instant, the explosion began.
A sharp pain, like an awl, stabbed into her nerves. It was as if her fingers had been imbued with some kind of magic—everywhere they touched detonated. One after another, dazzling, fingernail-sized lights blossomed on the doorframe. Wood splinters flew as the lights merged into a long, thin flame that leaped and danced.
