Which, as Tracer courses out ahead, might also have been a mistake.
There's a slick snap, something rearing back like a tripwire in the shadows where sunlight doesn't reach— before tentacles composed of knotted, bleeding flesh lash out like a cracked whip, trying to latch onto Lena before she has a chance to dart away.
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There's a slick snap, something rearing back like a tripwire in the shadows where sunlight doesn't reach— before tentacles composed of knotted, bleeding flesh lash out like a cracked whip, trying to latch onto Lena before she has a chance to dart away.