"We can't retreat any further."
The brutal reality of their situation hit the group with crushing force. There was no more space to maneuver, no more ground to yield.
This was where they would make their last stand.
The attacks became frenzied, desperate. They could no longer afford the luxury of waiting for the perfect moment; every second of hesitation meant one more Locus closer, one more claw nearer to reaching them.
Carbon walls rose and fell in rapid succession, each barrier containing a new combo. But the mana cost was high, too high.
The numbers began to turn red in their minds. Each attack was a desperate calculation, a gamble against increasingly unfavorable odds. Efficiency, so crucial until now, began to give way to the pure need for survival.
The bearer of the Attack Emblem was the first to feel the weight of the battle.
