The next vine came from above.
It dropped like a whip from the hollowed skeleton of a signpost, arcing in fast. Jin slid beneath it, his feet skidding against the uneven concrete, one hand bracing against the ground. He didn't stop. There was no point. If he paused, the momentum would break. And he needed every inch of it.
The city stretched ahead in uneven blocks of cracked glass and twisted metal. The monster's steps grew quieter behind him but that wasn't comfort. It was calculation. It wasn't rushing.
It didn't need to.
The vines were doing the hunting now.
Jin ducked beneath a collapsed archway, the air tight with heat and the lingering stink of scorched spores. Green glow bled faintly from the alleyways around him, twisting and writhing in slow, deliberate pulses. Like a heartbeat.
No. Like breath.
