The metal beneath Vega's feet groaned and twisted under the pressure of her power. Then, with a thunderous boom, she launched forward, her figure a blur tearing through the sky as she streaked toward the desert below.
Mid-flight, her eyes locked onto the airborne demons and other races affiliated with the Forsaken Cult. She didn't hesitate.
A white bow materialized in her hand, and without ceremony, her right palm bloomed with aura, rapidly condensing into arrows. She nocked one onto the bowstring, pulled back with practiced grace, and released.
The arrow surged forward in a burst of speed, then, midair, it split into a multitude of identical bolts, raining down upon the enemy ranks.
Some foes twisted away just in time. Others parried with their weapons. But the arrows, behaving like sentient projectiles, shifted course mid-flight, homing in on their targets. Upon impact, they erupted in fierce, rocketing explosions.
