The insect loomed over Damien, its remaining claws flexing as hatred blazed in its crimson eyes. One of its limbs lay severed on the sand, blue ichor still oozing from the ragged stump and hissing where it struck the scorching ground.
SHRACCCCK!
It let out a deafening, metallic roar, spraying spit and ichor in all directions.
Damien pushed himself upright, muscles coiling as he prepared to charge, but then the air shifted.
Behind the creature, a shadow fell. A silhouette wreathed in silver light and orange flames stepped into view, heat rippling outward.
"My firepower isn't enough to kill you outright," Joseph's voice rang out, cold and confident. "But this should hurt."
He stood there, streaked with blue gore, his silver armor dull and stained, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and ichor. Flames gathered in his right hand, burning brighter and hotter, then he drove his palm into the creature's face.
