The others moved immediately after Rudra.
The shift was obvious even before a single blow landed.
The rhythm of their teamwork changed. It became tighter. Faster. Cleaner. As though the completion of Rudra's third deck had pulled a thread through all of them, and the knot had drawn taut.
A serpent-like monster lunged from above, its body flickering between visibility, there and then not, a trick of compressed momentum and instinct. Before it could resolve into a strike, Chronavael moved. Not forward. Not sideways. He simply *existed* slightly differently in that moment, and the flow of time around the serpent stretched, thickened like syrup, pulling its motion into something measurable.
Maya stepped forward into that opening.
