"Cassie! That thing is getting closer!"
Out there beyond the calamitous battle, the Flesh of Kanakht had already reached the middle of the lake. The Dream Gate had long vanished, and nothing stood between it and the shattered shore — the titanic horror gazed down, an eerie malice emanating from the dark, bleeding chasms of its empty eye sockets.
Its dislocated jaw swayed, putting strain on the elastic bands of muscle holding it in place.
'What the hell, damn, why is this thing so creepy!'
Jet retreated from the ghostly blade of the Cursed Wanderer, knowing that she could not escape it much longer. The dwindling formation of the Shadow Legion had been pushed back, retreating all the way to the walls of the Dark Castle — if she took another step back, their defeat would become inevitable.
[Don't worry about the Titan, Jet. You have enough on your plate!]
Jet smiled.
Cassie was undoubtedly right.
