"Fuck! Don't follow me! Don't you see that 'thing'?!"
Gin exclaimed with a tremor in his voice, panic evident as the looming Horror Beneath The Sands closed in on them. At their current pace, in mere minutes, the relentless entity would overtake them.
"So fucking what!?"
But the Steeled Horror remained unyielding, relentlessly pursuing Gin with an unwavering determination. It paid no heed to the encroaching danger from behind, its focus solely fixed on the prey ahead, devoid of any hint of rationality.
'No, no, no!'
Gin's frustration grew palpable as the realization dawned on him: this wasn't the strategy he had envisioned.
The Horror Beneath The Sands, instead of being a tool for eliminating the Steeled Horror, was now an unforeseen complication, pushing him to the brink of exasperation.
He was using it for himself. To buy time.
