Vlad, Jormungandr, Freya, Fafnir, and Ouroboros poured out every drop of strength they still possessed. Their bodies trembled, bleeding and battered, but they ignored the wounds as they forced Metatron down against the broken earth. All five pinned him in place, their eyes burning with desperate determination.
Metatron, pinned beneath them, trembled in shock and horror. For the first time in countless millennia, terror clouded his divine eyes. He could feel it—feel the nightmare flesh, riddled with unblinking eyes and gnashing maws, seeping inside him. It crept along his veins, crawling through his organs, corroding his blood vessels. Tendrils slithered upward, breaching his eyes, piercing deeper, until even his spirit began to buckle under the assault.
