A split second before he blew himself along with the pesky little spiders, a deep voice reverberated above the chorus of clicks and rasps, pulling him back from the brink.
"Duck."
Driven by an inexplicable trust in the mysterious voice, Qiao Wei dove for cover. A searing lance of flame erupted where he'd stood moments before, bathing the monstrous spiders in its fury. Panic-stricken screeches filled the air, but the blaze pursued relentlessly, consuming the creatures one by one until only smoldering ash remained.
A gritty shroud descended, the air thick with the burnt remains of the spiders. Qiao Wei huddled on the ground, vision obscured, his breath shallow against the fabric of his sleeves. Then, a grip like iron clamped onto his arm, yanking him upwards. He stumbled, disoriented, as the world tilted and a figure emerged from the haze.
"Are you alright?"
