Nate clung to the thick, solid rails of the fence, staring at the oncoming undead army. He could hear their brown skin bumping against each other as they ran, shuffling frantically in indefinite directions.
It didn't take long before the now dwindling Phase One War had to divert its attention to the nilheads. But it seemed the Greyson vessels knew such a thing would occur, because they capitalized on the distractive scene to eradicate as many Harbingers as they could. Nevertheless, the Harbingers were evading as much as they could. Their hover vehicles, despite their size, were measurably the same speed if not faster than the Greyson jets.
The mangled chorus of the nilheads stung the air again, and the trampling of their feet produced a rumbling sound. Nate couldn't believe this many creatures were housed in the same North Wing he knew. What had Sebastian done? He asked himself.
