Rawr!
The goblins stormed in, snarling as they charged with weapons raised high. Their crude axes came crashing down toward the ghost—but the specter didn't flinch. One goblin swung hard, but the moment his axe met the ghost's palm, a sharp crack rang out.
The axe snapped in half as though it was simply a mere twig.
Without hesitation, the ghost's snake-like arm coiled upward, his other hand thrusting clean through the goblin's chest. The creature spasmed, eyes bulging—then dropped like a sack of meat.
Elsewhere, Steve was already in motion. A few goblins jerked and twitched mid-run, snarling in confusion. He was pulling their strings—literally. Thin, nearly invisible threads extended from his fingers, manipulating the few he could control and turning them against each other. Clashing steel. Screams. Panic.
