Anthony walked toward his team with an air of absolute serenity.
Each step he took fell with a graceful, almost ethereal lightness upon the bloodstained earth.
The ground around him was littered with the mutilated remains of abominations and monsters, some bereft of limbs, some decapitated, others carved into pieces or reduced to mangled flesh.
A few still spasmed grotesquely, their nerves firing aimlessly, though their brains had long since been destroyed, rendering those signals meaningless.
Despite the carnage he left in his wake, not a single drop of blood marred Anthony's body as he walked.
Dale, Seraphim, and Kingsley descended from the sky, landing softly before him.
Each regarded Anthony with an expression caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.
Though they had been preoccupied with their own battles, they had remained attuned to their surroundings, silently observing one another in case of any unforeseen developments.
