The number of alphas who could fight in the sky was getting smaller and smaller. Most of them were either gone or so badly hurt they couldn't get up from the deck of the blimp anymore. The Betas, soaked in sweat, found that a lot of them couldn't call on their psychic incarnations anymore.
Serge let the gun in his hand fall. His shoulder was so puffy and red that he couldn't raise it. The alpha he had been helping had passed out and was now lying at his feet.
He looked at the scene happening in front of him and felt hopeless. He thought, "I did everything I could," but couldn't help wondering, "If we were stronger, if we hadn't lived safe in the Tower since we were kids, if we had done more training, could we have changed this scary situation? Why did we get to live in peace for so many years, even though we were born in such a scary time?"
