"Run!" Lyra screamed, abandoning all stealth.
Following this shout, the desert beneath them convulsed.
Three colossal shadows blotted out the stars. As the Ancient War Titans fully straightened their spines, centuries of sand cascaded off their stone shoulders like waterfalls.
At three hundred feet tall, they were mountains given hate and form.
VWMMM.
Their eyes, massive pits carved into rune-etched stone, ignited with sickly green soul-fire.
They scanned the desert floor, searching for the mana signature that had dared to sting them.
"Move!" Lyra screamed, her voice cracking against the roar of the wind. "Don't look at them! Just run!"
The strike team sprinted across the shifting dunes, their stealth cloaks Lyra' s protective mana shattered by the sheer magical pressure rolling off the giants.
Alaric dragged Elena up a slope. Lukas stumbled, his heavy gauntlets smoking, his breath ragged.
"To the West!" Lyra commanded. "If we reach the rocks, we can—"
She stopped.
