The air shook as the enhanced soldiers lunged, their monstrous forms tearing through the fog, each movement an eerie synchronization of flesh and energy.
A wolf-headed beast with glowing crimson implants dashed forward, its elongated claws slashing through the air faster than the eye could track.
A hulking reptilian hybrid stomped into the battlefield, its armored scales cracking as it pushed its body beyond its natural limits.
A multi-limbed centaur-like soldier blurred in and out of motion, teleporting short distances with unnatural speed.
But they weren't alone. More than a dozen ordinary Red Hands Glint users moved in as well, a chaotic mix of grotesque forms.
Winged monstrosities, scaled brutes, and nightmarish mutations of what once were human warriors.
They weren't as powerful as the implanted ones, but they filled the battlefield with sheer numbers.
Bob swung his fog-formed club with a grunt. The weapon smashed into the first attacker, sending them flying. Their reinforced body cracked like brittle metal as it slammed into the dirt.
"Next!" Bob shouted, already turning.
A hyena-faced Glint jumped onto his back, its serrated fangs snapping inches from his neck.
"Get your rabid face off me," Bob growled.
He twisted hard, slamming his elbow into its ribs. It yelped in pain. Bob grabbed its leg and swung it like a weapon, hurling it into another charging enemy. Both crashed into the ground in a tangled heap.
He barely had a second to breathe before another Glint came at him. This one moved low and fast, its curved scorpion tail slicing through the air toward his side.
"Little busy here," Bob muttered, dodging as the stinger grazed him.
The Glint hissed. "You're slow, Goliath."
Bob steadied himself, gripping the club tighter. "Yeah? Let's see how fast you run after I break your knees."
A flash of light cut through the fog. Gabe had arrived.
His Griffin form soared above the battlefield, wings glowing with tightly packed light energy. Each beat of his wings left a ripple in the air as he scanned the chaos below.
He spoke through the comms, voice sharp. "You're surrounded, Bob. Might want to duck."
Bob didn't answer. He just dropped to one knee.
A split second later, arrows of searing light rained down from the sky. Gabe's shots tore through the enemy ranks, each one piercing flesh and armor with pinpoint accuracy. Bodies dropped where they stood, scorched and broken.
"Not bad," Bob muttered as one arrow sliced past his shoulder and hit a Glint trying to flank him.
Gabe circled above, locking in his next targets. "You're welcome."
Another volley followed. The battlefield lit up with flashes of white and gold.
The first two Red Hands soldiers took the light arrows straight to the chest. Their bodies burst open from the impact and collapsed, their Glints flickering out like dying embers.
Three more dropped in the next wave. Limbs torn apart, armor cracked, they hit the ground screaming, unable to rise. One of them tried to crawl away, dragging himself through the dirt.
From above, Gabe spoke calmly into the comms. "Told you I'd clean up."
A second barrage answered the crawler's struggle. Arrows pierced through his legs, cutting deep. He collapsed, motionless.
A sixth soldier stepped forward. Bigger than the rest, his body was covered in thick plates like a walking tank. He raised both arms to block.
Gabe's final shot punched through his forearm. The light burned a hole straight through his bicep, spraying blood across the cracked earth. The giant staggered back, howling in pain.
The rest of the Red Hands hesitated. Their formation broke. What had started as a charge now looked more like a retreat. Their confidence had been shattered in seconds.
One of the implant soldiers moved faster than the rest. He dodged just enough to avoid a fatal shot, though his left shoulder sizzled from the near miss. He stumbled back, wounded but still standing.
A shimmer passed through the fog. Sly appeared just ahead, Specter claws glowing with pulsing black energy.
"You've been hogging the spotlight, Bob," he said, eyes locked on the enemy. "Let's fix that."
He vanished before the soldier could react.
In the next breath, he reappeared behind another Red Hand. Gabe's arrow struck from above a heartbeat later, and Sly's claw sliced from behind in perfect sync. A head flew clean off, spinning into the dirt.
There was no hesitation anymore. No second chances. His strikes used to leave enemies crawling. Now they didn't move at all.
His claws ended fights on contact. No mercy. No delay.
Another enemy turned too late.
Sly's claws tore through their back, slicing straight through the spine. The body didn't just drop. It split in half.
The upper half hit the dirt with a dull thud. The legs twitched, staggered a step, then collapsed into a pool of thick, dark blood.
Sly stood over the mess, flicking the blood off his claws.
"You should've stayed down," he muttered, already stepping toward the next.
A nearby Red Hand froze, eyes wide. He looked at Sly, then quickly turned away, pretending to search for another target.
Sly tilted his head. "Go on. Run."
The Red Hand soldier sprinted from Sly, heart pounding, eyes scanning for someone else to fight. He spotted movement ahead and rushed toward it, hoping to disappear into the chaos.
He ran straight into Iris.
She moved with deadly precision. Her Valkyrie aura shimmered around her, distorting the air and shaking the focus of anyone who got too close. The Little Finger forces, monstrous and disciplined, surged forward in brutal waves.
A panther-like warrior with obsidian fur and golden eyes darted between the chaos, trying to read her rhythm. Beside him, a serpent Glint coiled low, ready to strike.
But Iris was already in motion.
Her spear flashed. One clean sweep severed an enemy's arm at the shoulder. Blood sprayed, and the feline warrior staggered, thrown off by the pressure of her aura.
"Wait," he gasped, trying to recover. "How are you this fast?"
Iris didn't answer.
She stepped in and drove her spear straight through his chest. His body stiffened, then dropped with a dull thud.
The Red Hand soldier came to a halt, wide-eyed and trembling.
"I'm not with them," he blurted. "I just got separated."
Iris looked at him without a word. Her eyes narrowed slightly. A quiet click of her tongue followed.
He took a slow step back.
"Okay," he said, voice shaking. "I'll find someone else."
The Red Hand soldier who had begged for mercy turned and fled into the fog, desperate to escape.
But while he ran, another enemy stepped forward.
The serpentine creature hissed, coiling low before striking with blinding speed. Its fangs snapped inches from Iris's throat.
"You bleed like the rest," it snarled.
Iris spun on her heel. Her spear caught its momentum, flipping the creature mid-air. The blade drove clean through its chest.
She kicked the corpse off her weapon without blinking.
From above, a griffon-like warrior screeched and dropped fast. Its talons tore into her shoulder, shredding through muscle. Blood poured as her footing slipped.
Iris hissed, the sound sharp and low.
The beast laughed. "Not so perfect now."
She didn't answer.
Her spear twisted, aura flaring. One clean cut severed its wings. The creature crashed to the ground, screeching in panic. She stepped forward and ended it with a thrust to the skull.
Her shoulder burned. Her breath came heavier.
But her eyes remained calm.
Another presence moved ahead.
Heavy footsteps pounded the earth. A four-armed brute, skin layered in cracked stone, barreled through the fog. His fists clenched. His snarl rumbled like thunder.
"Try that spear on me, girl," he growled. "Let's see if it breaks."
Iris rolled her injured shoulder, blood still trailing down her arm.
Her eyes narrowed.
She raised her spear again.
Meanwhile, Bob found himself toe-to-toe with two enhanced soldiers. Their implant energy crackled with unstable pulses, muscles twitching, eyes wild. They moved like their bodies were breaking apart from the inside, but with every step, they gained a burst of insane strength.
The first soldier swung at his head.
Bob ducked, eyes wide. "Whoa. That almost touched my thoughts."
The second didn't miss. A fist slammed into his ribs, launching him across the field. He rolled, grunted, and came to a stop with a loud thud against a broken crate.
"Ow. That's gonna bruise something important."
He blinked. The pain wasn't as bad as it should have been. Looking down, he saw it. A thin layer of fog clung to his torso, fading like mist. It had absorbed the hit.
"Huh," he muttered. "Did my belly just block that? Are we doing belly armor now?"
The implant soldiers charged again.
Bob gripped his weapon and shifted it into a pole, planting his feet. "Alright. Let's dance, muscle spasms."
Before they reached him, Sly materialized behind them in a flash. His claws slashed through both of their backs, clean and brutal.
"You're late," Bob said as he spun his pole.
He caught the first soldier in the neck, the impact snapping bone and ripping through flesh. The body dropped, head barely hanging on.
The second staggered back, leaking energy and blood.
Gabe swooped overhead and shouted. "Move."
Bob instinctively stepped aside.
A beam of pure light struck from above, punching straight through the soldier's chest. The body turned to ash before it hit the ground.
Bob wiped some dust off his cheek. "Teamwork. Look at us. Like soup and spoon."
Sly gave him a sideways glance. "What does that even mean?"
"I don't know," Bob said, already turning to find the next fight. "I'm hungry."
Bob turned toward the next group of enemies, pole in hand and a grin spreading across his face.
But before he could take a step, the air around him shifted. Something was coming.
Darius was moving.