The space ahead of us continued to fold into itself. Street, road, grass, trees and field all compressed. The effect was to create something that looked almost like a portal.

Two portals, I realized. The angle of the other wasn’t clear, to the point the distortions masked it.

Our groups parted ways. From a city under an overcast sky to foliage. The forest was dark. Chris was the first to walk through. Eager, even.

“Phones on vibrate, careful from this point forward,” I said. I changed my phone.

Sveta, Byron and I passed through, entering the forest at the periphery of the Fallen camp. Paths cut between the trees, left by animals and not people.

It was dark, and for the most part, we were well camouflaged, in the dark.

Ahead of us, Chris was crouching. He had a hand at the corner of his mouth, and he was working out the wire from his external braces. His mouth yawned open and he looked incredibly uncomfortable as he adjusted, head twisting this way and that.

From the central pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, he pulled out a disc. He tapped it twice. A projection wrapped around him. Camouflage.

It didn’t make him transparent. It did seem to pull things from his surroundings and create a patchwork exterior. Bark, grass, greenery, a slice of fur. The patches didn’t line up, so it looked more like a nature-themed scrapbook collage than a second skin.

I saw him part his lips in a smile, and the projection disc seemed to take a moment to remember what teeth and braces were. The teeth were there on their own, then they became part of the collage. The metal bits of the braces, sans wire, were next.

He had a second disc. He pressed a button.

A projection of Looksee appeared, crouching as well.

“Cameras are showing them on their way. I’m putting it through to your phones, but it might be—”

Chris adjusted something on the disc. The volume of Looksee’s voice dropped second by second.

Nearly mute, she turned to Chris, hands on her hips.

“If she’s reporting something, let her,” I said.

I pulled out my phone.

The camera footage flickered violently, with patches here and there where undulating lines of code flashed pink against a red background. What I could see at the fringes were that Hollow Point’s convoy was a minute away.

If the shrinking of the glitchy area on the phone was any indication, Vista’s adjustments would be gone by the time the villains turned up.

“I’ll let my brother take point. We trade places as we need to,” Byron said. “We’ll play this by ear, like we used to. Remember that innocent lives are on the line. Even among the Fallen.”

He blurred.

“They’re our priority,” I said.