Sophia's fists moved on instinct.
Even after the [Ding!], even after the Growler Pup had stopped twitching—she kept hitting.
Her hands were red, raw, and shaking. Her breath ragged.
The beast was no longer a threat. But something inside her hadn't stopped screaming.
She slammed her fist down again. Then again.
Blood had splattered across her crop top, warm and sticky, clinging to the soft curve of her chest. Her thighs, smooth and still trembling from the tension, were painted with streaks of crimson.
Only when her arms gave out—sinking her body forward into a sloppy kneel—did Sophia stop.
She stared down, panting. Her fists hovered above the crushed skull of the creature.
Tears ran down her cheeks without warning.
She didn't know if it was fear, rage, or shame. Maybe all three.
And then—
[Ding!]
The panel in the air had been blinking for a while, and she'd been too focused on surviving to notice. Now, its light bathed her face.
