When Arkai, Eastiel, and Oathran arrived at the rift, they found a nightmare having a meltdown.
The scene before them was illuminated in sickly purple and the harsh white of drone spotlights, and it was, to put it generously, a lot to process.
The twin rifts pulsed like infected wounds in the fabric of reality. Zombies still shambled at the edges of the clearing, though significantly fewer than before. And in the center of it all, chaos reigned.
The two civilians, the tall man in the white t-shirt and the devastatingly beautiful blonde woman, were clutching each other and screaming.
They were screaming at something specific, something that had apparently broken through whatever composure they had managed to maintain.
"KILL IT! KILL IT WITH FIRE!"
"DON'T LET IT INFEST THIS WORLD!"
"AAAAAAHHHH—"
"AAAAAAAAAAA— AAAAAHAAAAAAA— AAHAAAAAAAWWWWAAAAAA—"
