Slow breathing.
Then heavier.
Then heavier still.
Powerful prints leaving their trace in the yard.
Moving forward.
Black ooze texturing the shape of each footprint as it marched ahead.
A giant black xenomorph ant.
It entered.
Its powerful black scythe striking outward.
Screaming.
Clashing with the soldier.
The force pushing him back.
Endless thunder rolling around them all.
Lightning flying overhead.
Different shades.
Different lights.
Mystic in nature.
Moving over and around everything.
---
The second strike met the soldier again.
The third.
He moved faster now.
The ant slipping.
Stepping on another soldier's corpse.
Intestines turning to mash beneath it.
The second soldier used the distraction.
Sinking his blade in with enough force to split the head.
Two other soldiers rushed from behind.
Another giant ant appeared.
The first soldier aimed for the leg.
Drawing its attention.
Moving forward.
Ready to claim another head.
Screaming.
The sword found it instantly.
But the ant pushed forward.
Its head slowly splitting open.
Using its own splitting skull as a battering ram.
Driving the soldier back.
---
Another soldier appeared.
Bullets watching his comrade fly off in the distance.
He aimed for the wound in the head.
The bullets kissed the wound.
Entered.
The ant finally died.
---
A giant ant flying in the air.
Part of the black cloud.
It took a soldier.
Lifted him.
Another appeared from the opposite direction.
Both pulling from different sides.
One grabbing the head violently.
One grabbing the leg.
Splitting him in two.
Guts and blood raining down upon the soldiers below.
A wet red rainfall.
Another ant crushed a head with its metal mandibles.
Eating through.
Body parts falling to the ground around it.
Then powerful lightning struck.
Aimed for the wings.
The ant fell.
Other soldiers rushed it before it could rise.
Their blades turning it to mincemeat quickly.
Efficiently.
Without ceremony.
---
At the front—
Gun-woo.
Flaming armor catching the storm light around him.
His sword trailing flame that stretched behind him then forward.
He cut through three ants simultaneously.
Clean.
Immediate.
He looked back.
Saw the chaos spreading through his soldiers.
Looked forward.
The black cloud rushing toward them.
The numbers of ants drawing lower.
But still coming.
Always still coming.
A drone dropped overhead.
Health potions falling.
Gun-woo caught one.
Drank without stopping moving.
His mind working while his body fought.
*We can't do this all day.*
*So many of them.*
*Something has to change.*
*We have to kill the boss.*
*That means we have to carve a path.*
He raised his flaming sword.
The black smoke matched him.
Moving forward.
Rushing toward him like it had decided he was the obstacle worth removing.
Gun-woo didn't step back.
Didn't slow.
Didn't look away.
The flame on his sword grew.
And he moved into it.