The Dark Guild members hadn't all rushed toward the same shelter, and there was a clear, selfish reason for that. Dark Affinity didn't grow as a collective blessing, it grew for the individual who delivered the killing blow. Only the one who ended a life received the surge of power.
So when the Dark Guild scattered and spotted a massive group heading toward the first shelter, the rest had split off, veering sharply through the shattered streets of the Underside. They dashed in different directions, heading for the remaining shelters like predators dividing the herd. Each one was eager, desperate, to claim their own victims, their own growth, their own shot at becoming strong enough to "save" the Dark Magus.
They expected terrified civilians.
They expected helpless Undersiders.
They expected easy kills.
But they were wrong.
