The stagnant, oppressive air of the ruined subterranean geode weighed heavily upon the surviving members of the Imperial Vanguard. The scattered ash of the fallen demonic entity coated the cracked obsidian floor, drifting like gray snow across the shattered remains of the blood-vats. Commander Jin stood near the collapsed entrance, his golden halberd planted firmly into the stone. His dislocated left shoulder throbbed with a dull, rhythmic ache, the stabilizing effects of the mysterious healer's magic already beginning to fade, leaving a sharp friction in the joint socket with every intake of breath.
