Lyra adjusted the bow slung across her back, her quiver already half-empty from her earlier skirmishes. Her auburn hair was tied in a messy braid, streaked with soot. Despite the chaos, her eyes were sharp and focused.
"I've been covering the western flank," she said. "Barely held it. The mist there wasn't as thick, but people were still going mad."
Inigo grunted. "Same thing here. But I found the source. Some sort of illusion demon. I shattered its throne, broke the spell. Mist's thinning, but it's not over yet."
A nearby explosion rocked the earth. They both turned toward the breach, where the battle still raged. Demons howled, their cries a mix of beast and nightmare, while defenders pushed back with every ounce of strength they had left.
"Come on," Inigo said, hoisting the minigun. "Let's clean up the rest."
