The rumbling grew louder as the earth trembled beneath their feet. Kazuichi's head snapped up, his pulse quickening as he spotted the next wave of Aberrants on the horizon. There was no end to them. Dozens—no, hundreds—of grotesque, misshapen creatures were closing in fast, their forms twisted by the meteorite ores embedded in their flesh.
"We don't have time to rest," Ayaka muttered, her body still tense from the last battle. "More are coming."
Jurou grimaced, glancing at the distant horde. "We need to fall back. We can't hold them off forever."
Kazuichi shook his head, determination flashing in his eyes. "No. We end this here. We can't let them reach the stronghold." He flexed his fingers, the residual charge of lightning still crackling beneath his skin.
"They're slower this time," Arisu noted, her keen eyes scanning the approaching Aberrants. "But they're built like tanks."
