Before the circling wolves could synchronize their attack, before fangs could find flesh, Julia moved. There was no hesitation, only focused intent. Her hands snapped up, fingers aimed like twin conductors towards the two smaller wolves flanking the scarred alpha. Her stance widened almost imperceptibly, grounding her. Power gathered and discharged in the space of a heartbeat.
"Magic Missile!" she whispered, the words crisp, imbued with undeniable authority.
Two streaks of blinding blue white energy erupted from her fingertips. Not light, but pure force given form, they tore through the air with an audible hiss, leaving shimmering trails like phantom comets against the twilight gloom. They moved with impossible, guided speed, striking the targeted wolves with pinpoint accuracy before they could react.
The impact was brutal. Yelp-screams ripped from the wolves' throats as the energy slammed into their flanks, throwing them bodily sideways. Deep wounds instantly appeared, glowing with a fierce, actinic blue light that visibly seared fur and flesh, charring edges black even as it illuminated splintered bone beneath. The creatures convulsed violently on the ground, muscles spasming uncontrollably, whimpering in agony, smoke rising faintly from the impact sites. They weren't dead, but their coordinated movements shattered into clumsy, pain-wracked twitches. Two hostile units effectively neutralized via directed energy attack, William's mind registered numbly, even as another part gaped.
He stared, breath caught in his throat, dagger forgotten for a split second. Confirmed: Targeted energy projection. Designation: Magic Missile. Source: Subject Julia. Power level: Significant. Cross-referenced with fictional databases… match found. Reality model requires further urgent updates. Magic wasn't just subtle translation spells. It was raw, terrifyingly effective power unleashed with a word and a gesture. The adrenaline buzzing through him felt familiar, like the final moments of the poker game, assessing variables, calculating odds, but the stakes weren't chips. They were life and limb. His life. Their lives.
Edward didn't waste the opening Julia had created. With a roar that was pure, primal challenge, he charged, not recklessly, but with explosive, focused intent, directly at the alpha wolf. The scarred leader, momentarily distracted or perhaps stunned by the sudden, devastating display of magic, reacted a half-second too slow.
It gathered itself to meet Edward's charge, jaws snapping, but Edward feinted. A wide, seemingly obvious overhead swing with the lightning-wreathed sword sliced through the air where the wolf had been. The alpha, reacting instinctively, leaped backward, landing awkwardly. In that instant of recovery, its guard down, Edward pivoted on his lead foot with deceptive agility, the movement flowing seamlessly into an upward, underhand slash.
"Fluid dynamics," William's analytical mind noted with detached awe, even amidst the chaos. "Perfect weight transfer, minimal wasted motion. The feint wasn't just misdirection, it forced the opponent into a predictable, vulnerable recovery posture. Textbook execution."
The lightning charged blade met the wolf's exposed underside. There was a sickening shlick of steel shearing through thick hide and muscle, immediately followed by a loud, violent CRACKLE as the stored energy discharged directly into the creature's torso.
The wolf's yelp became a high-pitched, agonized scream. Its body convulsed mid-air, limbs flailing, muscles locked in violent spasm as blue lightning arced across its dark fur. Its eyes rolled back, white. The acrid smell of burnt hair and ozone slammed into William's nostrils, thick and nauseating.
Edward didn't pause, didn't hesitate. Stepping forward into the wolf's collapsing trajectory, his face grim, devoid of emotion save for a chilling efficiency, he reversed his grip and plunged the crackling blade down through the creature's skull. A final, convulsive shudder, and it lay still. Hostile alpha unit terminated. Time elapsed from charge initiation to termination: approximately 3.5 seconds. Efficiency rating: Off the charts. William felt a flicker of something akin to professional respect, mingled with profound terror. This wasn't just fighting; it was applied lethality, honed to a terrifying degree.
The fourth wolf, the only one left unscathed, witnessed its pack leader and companions fall in the space of mere seconds. Primal pack instinct warred visibly with raw fear. It skidded to a halt, eyes darting frantically between the crackling sword, the faintly glowing Julia, and the twitching bodies of the other wolves. With a frustrated snarl that ended on a pathetic whimper, it abandoned the fight. Survival protocols took over. It turned and bolted, scrambling desperately into the deepest shadows, away from the terrifying lights and sounds.
But in its panicked retreat, its path angled directly towards William's position near the edge of the firelight.
William's mind, momentarily caught observing Edward's deadly precision, snapped back to his own precarious situation. Incoming threat vector! Hostile unit: Wolf, Tallenwood variant, uninjured but panicked. User status: Compromised mobility, minimally armed. He glanced instinctively towards his companions. Julia was taking a deep, steadying breath, the residual glow fading from her hands, her attention momentarily fixed on the still convulsing forms of the wolves she'd struck, ensuring they stayed down. Or possibly recovering from the energy expenditure. Edward was just turning from his kill, his blade still emitting faint sparks, his posture suggesting readiness but his immediate focus still residual from the alpha. Neither was positioned for an instant interception of the panicking wolf currently zeroing in on his location. Ally intervention latency: estimated 2-4 seconds. Time to impact: estimated 1.5 seconds. He was on his own for this crucial window.
The realization hit him with cold clarity. He couldn't just be the analyst, the observer, the liability they had to protect. "Not going to be extra baggage," he thought, a surge of grim determination cutting through the fear. "Need to contribute to positive outcome, not just increase risk variables."
He didn't have time for nuanced calculation, options flashed through his mind like error codes on a crashing system.
Scenario 1: Evasion. Mobility: Impaired (-60% est.). Predator speed: High. Scent lock: Probable. Outcome Probability: User terminated >90%. REJECTED.
Scenario 2: Melee Engagement. Weapon: Dagger (sub-optimal). User CQC Skill: Negligible. Predator Lethality: High. Outcome Probability: Mutual injury/User termination >75%. REJECTED.
Scenario 3: Ranged Attack (Dagger Throw). Accuracy (Low - untrained, stress, poor projectile): ~35-40% effective hit. Potential Outcomes: (A) Minor Injury / Distraction -> Buys time for Intervention (Julia/Edward). (B) Miss -> User unarmed, vulnerable. Risk: High (if miss). Potential Reward: Survival (non-zero probability). Analysis: Option 3 selected as least-catastrophic failure pathway.
The calculation was instantaneous, a desperate gamble distilled from logic and adrenaline. He remembered the poker table, the cold assessment of odds, the moment of commitment. This felt terrifyingly similar, yet infinitely more final. "Can't believe I'm staking my life on a sub-40% probability throw," he cursed internally, his hand tightening on the worn dagger hilt, the cold steel a stark contrast to the sudden heat flushing his skin. "But the expected value, however low, beats certain termination. All or nothing. Here we go!"
He took a sharp, steadying breath, planting his good foot, eyes locked on the rapidly approaching blur of dark fur and panicked eyes. Just like at the tables, he had to trust the calculation, trust the execution, trust whatever luck this hostile new system allowed. He raised his arm, dagger poised.