Twenty-five.
Jesus Christ.
The rainforest erupted around us again. Trees. Vines. Humidity. The smell of rot and something metallic underneath.
But this time it was different.
The plants moved. Not swaying. Moving. Vines reached toward us like fingers. The undergrowth shifted and writhed.
"Environmental hazards means the terrain is hostile," Misato said calmly. "Don't touch the red plants. They'll paralyze you. Yellow plants spray acid. Blue plants explode."
"Great." Jordan sounded ready to cry. "This is great. I'm so happy to be here."
The first howl came from directly above.
I looked up.
Crawlers clung to the tree branches. Their eyes glowed in the dim light filtering through the canopy. Five of them. Maybe six.
"Above!" I shouted.
They dropped.
All at once. A rain of teeth and claws and fury.
Misato's clones materialized. They intercepted three mid-air. Grabbed them. Slammed them into the ground.
Two more came straight for me.
I raised my spear. Braced.
