The junkyard shook with every movement, twisted towers of scrap clattering against one another as if they too were afraid of what lurked inside.
Lucius steadied his stance, gun in one hand, blade in the other. The monsters circling him gleamed with armor-like hides, eyes burning with unnatural light.
They were no ordinary beasts—something about the divine energy pulsing through this land had changed them, made them stronger, coordinated, almost intelligent.
When they attacked, it was not as wild animals but as soldiers in formation.
Three lunged from the front, two swept from the flanks, and another leapt from the shadows behind.
Lucius pivoted sharply, firing bullets infused with mana. The first three staggered, chunks of armor blown away, but the others pressed on.
Steel claws raked at his side.
Lucius twisted in time, his blade flashing upward, severing the arm before it could pierce him.
