Once the mimics fully formed, their faces were blank, their movements stiff and mechanical—but they charged straight at the Heartland zombies without hesitation.
Thornessa's eyes narrowed. In an instant, the thorny vines on her body lashed out like a storm of steel whips, slicing through the mimics with brutal precision.
The barbed thorns, jagged like saw blades, tore the mimics apart, reducing them to drifting clouds of white mycelium.
It didn't take long for Thornessa to realize—these things looked creepy, sure, but they weren't exactly packing a punch.
"Hmph! This is the backup you brought? Pathetic. Let's see how you like getting torn to shreds!" she snarled, her vines whipping through the air with a shrill, slicing sound.
The mimics were shredded one after another, their fungal remains floating like snow-white willow fluff.
Then, from the haze of spores, Lil' Shroom emerged.
