Plasma bolts shot out from all directions, streaking through the air like shooting stars. The assassins scrambled to dodge the incoming fire, their reflexes saving many of them as they darted and rolled to safety.
The leader himself deflected several plasma bolts with his crimson sword, the energy sizzling as it clashed against his blade.
"What the hell is this?!" The leader barked, his composure slipping as he scanned the forest. His crimson eyes flared as he tried to locate the source of the attack.
From the shadows, golden plasma bolts continued to rain down on the assassins, the intensity forcing them to abandon their coordinated strikes and scatter for survival. Carlos, still kneeling, grinned weakly as he recognized the familiar glow of the plasma fire.
"About damn time," he muttered, his voice filled with both relief and triumph.
