"Time for round two. Let's off these losers."
Jung called Nero and smiled maniacally with her.
They didn't have to wait too long.
Ten seconds later, the light-bringers arrived, and the first player spawned on the floor, looking both bitter and resentful.
He was the first one to die; that's why he was the first one to revive.
Materializing on the ground, this poor sage archetype player stood alone against the hungry beasts.
"What th-" he wanted to shout, but Nero's shadowy pillar flattened him on the ground.
"At least let him breathe," Jung laughingly scolded the cat.
Soon, other players arrived, and the perfectly clean floor and fresh scent were replaced by a metallic and heavy smell.
Unfinished screams echoed in the room.
Player after player dropped to the ground, dead but still warm, transforming into mist and flying in Jung's direction.
Death became a familiar sight, painting Jung with the filthy colour of blood.
