"Are you sure about this?!"
After the passage of more than a day and a half since the first black cloud had bled into the territory, the air had grown heavy with the approach of the last test.
It was now time to face the fifth and final wave of the Wrathers. The cycle of slaughter had become a grim routine, but the stakes were shifting in a way that made every one of the group feel a chill in their bones.
During the past two waves, John and his friends had become a well-oiled machine of destruction. They had held the line against the fourth wave, which had surged with twenty thousand Wrathers.
It had taken several hours of gruelling combat to clear the field. During which the Wrathers had followed their established patterns: six hundred Wrathers had branched off to kickstart the old den, launching waves of yellow monsters to harass their flanks.
