The combatants were ready, the stakes raised, and the stage was set. All that was left was to dance. The Beowolves were divided into three teams and took on three 3-Sun ranked beings of immense power. As the small squad of lunatics was locked at 3-Moon, the difference in might was apparent, yet none dared to shy away from this battle.
Each Beowolf had a reason to be here; each person here, regardless of race, earned their Fenrir. While many would cower at the thought of fighting with abysmal chances for victory, they went anyway. Most would hide in the safety of their homes when the problem was someone else's, yet they marched. Though they could leave it to others as they had fought more than enough, as they didn't want to leave it to chance, the Beowolves did not stand down. After all, the only thing one can truly trust in is yourself.
