One of my fractured minds controlled the power within the arrows, maintaining the charge, the Essence tension inside them. The other fracture focused entirely on their direction—every angle, every possible trajectory accounted for.
I raised a finger and gave the command.
"Go."
The arrows obeyed.
They shrieked as they tore through the air, a golden rainstorm hurtling toward the forest below. The first one struck a crawler from the side, exploding through its skull. Bone, flesh, and black ichor sprayed outward—but the arrow didn't dissipate.
Instead, I curved its path.
With a flick of intent, it twisted mid-air and buried itself into another crawler behind it. And another. One arrow—three kills.
All across the valley, golden streaks began to dance.
