The flash hit—
—but Lara was already moving.
Without thinking. Without hesitation.
Muscle memory of training from long ago snapped into place like a blade locking into its sheath.
She dropped, twisting sideways, one arm coming up to shield her eyes while the other hooked around the base of the tree to control her fall. Her body hit the ground in a tight roll, using momentum instead of fighting it.
White swallowed the world.
Sound vanished into a high, piercing whine.
It wasn't lethal,
But disorienting.
Through the ringing in her ears, she felt it before she heard it: vibrations in the soil, multiple footfalls pounding through the orchard from different directions.
Not one intruder.
A team.
Her eyes snapped open, vision still washed out but rapidly sharpening. Shapes resolved into shadows between the trees — fast, coordinated, converging.
Four people. No… five.
All armed and clad in black.
All moving toward her.
Toward Ares.
