"Oh yeah," another said slowly, his voice cautious, his eyes wide as he scanned the treeline. "Where is he?"
The Graduate Novens spread out, their Axiom Rigs humming softly as they adjusted their stance, the mechanical arms extending and retracting, the cables gleaming with residual mana. Their hands moved to their weapons, fingers resting on triggers, ready for anything. The snow crunched beneath their boots as they turned in slow circles, scanning the clearing, the trees, the shadows, their breath forming clouds in the cold air.
That was when the snowball hit.
It came from behind a thick pine, a small white projectile packed with child-sized hands, aimed with a four-year-old's desperate precision. It struck the woman who had been holding Sophia directly in the face, exploding into powder and ice crystals that clung to her goggles and hair. She stumbled backward, her arms flailing, and fell hard onto the snow, her grip on Sophia's body lost.
