Jonah stood up. The cold rain mixed with the sweat on his face. His eyes, glowing with a faint golden light, saw the entire messy fight.
To his right, Draven was locked in a brutal fight. He was a wall holding back evil version of Maul. The corrupted beast slammed against Draven's shield with wild anger, its cracked tusks screeching against the magical armor with a loud noise.
Across the alley, Seraph had just finished off the corrupted Nyx, its tattered form dissolving into black dust near a dumpster. But her victory was short-lived.
Directly in front of Jonah, a new threat was forming. Subject Beta, with his scary blank face, had just summoned a twisted Echo. It was the last of his broken puppets for the fight.
Jonah was suddenly very angry. This was not a fight, but an insult. It was an insult to him, to his Progeny, and to the core of his power. He was done being afraid. He was going to end this.
