The moon shone with a cold intensity in the clear, starless sky, a sky that seemed too clean for the carnage unfolding below.
The city of Arkham was in chaos.
The lightning wolves had already breached the outer walls. They were scattering through the streets, leaving behind shattered doors, broken windows, and bodies that just minutes before had been walking unsuspectingly.
Blue sparks crackled between their fangs.
The knights moved in all directions, organizing improvised lines, protecting alleys, and forming small human shields to allow civilians to evacuate. Their swords came down again and again, cutting down the beasts that, though wild by nature, now acted as if obeying a higher will.
Because they did.
In the distance, atop the roof of a partially collapsed structure, the V-ranked Great Lightning Wolf watched.
Several corpses began to stain the streets that were once red with life.
