The ruin had become a storm.
Fog churned like a living sea, spinning into spirals that clawed at the sky, whipped into frenzy by the Revenant's every lurching step. Its chains whistled through the mist, striking outward in arcs of ruin. Each blow smashed stone into dust, each sweep cracked broken pillars like kindling, each lash carried the voice of screaming iron. The monster pressed forward with mindless hunger, its fused mouths bellowing in fractured harmony, a choir of torment that rattled the marrow of every man who heard it.
The soldiers broke. Formations were lost to chaos. Men scattered across the ruin floor, stumbling between shattered wagons, slipping into shadows cast by the fallen arches. Orders became shouts drowned in the storm, bravery melted into panic.
