They didn't attack at sunset.

That was the first sign Elias was smarter than I'd hoped.

Twenty Purifiers on the ridge. Eighty wolves in defensive positions.

The logical move was engagement, press the advantage of surprise, hit fast before defenses solidified.

Every tactical scenario Azrael had walked us through started with an immediate assault.

Elias didn't play by Azrael's playbook.

They held the ridge for forty minutes.

Just standing there. Visible. Deliberate.

Letting us see them, letting us count them, letting the knowledge of their presence do the slow, patient work of fear.

Then they pulled back into the trees.

Vanished.

"They're gone?" Torres radioed from the eastern perimeter. "I've...