Mio
The Queen's arms tightened around Amori. Small hands gripping where skin met shell, the girl pressed her face into the woman's chest. Flat black eyes found Chi-chi over the top of Amori's head.
The silk came alive.
Chi-chi's skin rippled where the threads tore free. Shoulders and forearms, the line of her ribs. Hundreds of strands fanning into the tunnel, latching to walls and wet concrete.
The corridor became a web with Chi-chi at its center and both arms open.
Eight legs churning, shell grinding floor, the Queen charged through the outer layer with Amori flat against her chest.
Chi-chi's threads caught the front pair and wrenched sideways. Both snapped at the joint and the Queen came forward on six.
Mio was already moving. Obsidian arm back, angled for the shell. She closed four meters before a thread caught her across the collarbone and threw her sideways into the wall.
The impact cracked tile.
