As I search for him, my so hard to get prey, a disturbance spreads downwards among the soldiers and ghouls, and as I start to see some order in this chaotic environment I manage to tell that there are still humans alive and well enough to push against the horde, surrounded but fighting back.
They won't last long like this, I think as I watch they struggle, acid spitters breaking their formation slowly but surely, only seconds before everything changes to an odd outcome.
" 'Bring him to me, the Mark Bearer.' " I frown at the strange sound that reaches my ears, a whispering carried by the wind, orders passed without the use of human words, and yet transmitted by the sound somehow.
It is strange enough to the point that I understand what it wants without even knowing what it is saying.
