Standing behind the barricades, Selphira and Julius intercepted the messenger birds dropping from the smoke-filled sky.
One after another, the tiny, hastily scrawled notes reported deep-ground perimeters on the verge of collapse. Sectors crying out for extra aid that simply did not exist.
The elites had their hands full just keeping their soldiers alive.
The sheer pressure of the frontline demanded they invest all their fusion's time right here and now. They weren't using their apocalyptic auras to sweep the field in a glorious display of power; they were using them just to keep from being trampled by the ever-growing vanguard of Platinum mutants spearheading the charge.
Without the exponential stat multipliers their fusions provided, even they would have been ground to dust under the sheer numbers of the swarm.
