"Defensive formation! Now!" Klaus's command cut through the stunned silence. Team 55 responded instantly, falling into a tight circle, their movements born of countless drills and battle-forged instinct. Leone's officers hesitated for barely a second before joining the formation, pride set aside in the face of immediate danger.
The Duke—or what remained of him—tilted his head at an impossible angle, neck bending with mechanical precision rather than organic fluidity. "Such predictable creatures," he said, his voice suddenly devoid of natural inflection. "Always resorting to steel when faced with progress."
Around them, the researchers and officials began to change. Their skin split along invisible seams, peeling away not like flesh but like a discarded glove. Beneath was not blood and muscle, but a glistening substance that resembled molten glass—translucent, with swirling patterns of alchemical symbols visible just beneath the surface.
