All skittering, letting out a hollow, chittering sound that scraped across the soul like razors on glass.
The dark creatures charged toward the group with ferocious intent, their clawed limbs scraping the edges of the ancient stone bridge.
These weren't beasts in any conventional sense.
They were malformed, living shadows—remnants of something older, something left behind in the abyss.
They came in twisted, partial forms—like reflections half-formed in black water—emerging from beneath the bridge, from the air itself, and crawling up the sides like spiders out of nightmares.
The group tensed at the sight.
It had already been a brutal challenge just to stay ahead of the storm behind them—a sentient, ever-hungering cloud that swallowed anything it touched.
Now they were being ambushed from the sides.
"What the hell?" Korrum exclaimed, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted his grip on his axe.
