Passive Against Mortality

We guarded our camp as best we could. For only having about seven seconds, we managed to protect the kids with a swift use of a magic barrier. The largest of our group focused on handling the shrapnel. He waved his arms like he was attempting to wipe the fragments away. They gathered into a swarm, one controlled and guided out of the camp.
I absorbed the majority of the force. It was a controlled explosion, born from the center of someone’s body.
Brutal, effective, and undetectable. Except when knowing it was coming. Everyone had headed my warning and took all the practiced, necessary actions.
The explosion had pushed me back quite a few feet. I hadn’t expected that. Or the pieces that assaulted the back of my throat. They were like bugs, alive and separated from the group, with a direction and mind of their own.
The two severed feet smoked. They leaked a buzzing smoke.
I didn’t notice until it was too late. Until they burrowed in and buried her voice and control deep in the folds of my—
Everything was fine. Nobody got hurt. No fatalities.
Yet.

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