The land itself seemed to exhale with furious grief, an aroma of overheated machinery filling the air. One could feel the instability beneath their feet as the ground quaked with disturbance. Legato was no stranger to calamity, he had prayed for it with bloodied hands for as long as he had the capacity for memory.
This was different though.
This was not the end of times that he had envisioned.
When the horde of glitched anomalies had broken through the city's barrier, the first thing he had heard was a long, piercing collective of screeches that echoed across Golden Ward. Like a sandstorm of bodies shambling into the streets, they were encroaching the storefronts and choking out the alleyways, flooding the residential areas to a point of no return.
Legato had made it to the docks, hyperaware of his surroundings; at some point, he felt them-- he felt the familiar tug of thousands and thousands of microscopic threads branching out from the base of his skull. Had his power finally returned to him? Fitting that the stars release him from his metaphoric chains just as the day of reckoning arrives.
-- A familiar face catches his attention. Legato locks eyes with Fiyero, takes in a breathe, and calls out in a sharp voice:
" Why are you out here on your own? "
He turns his head as another echo of screeches hits him. Legato's expression hardens with focus, far off and distant compared to the more curious energy that usually clung to him.
" Those creatures out there are devouring everything they see-- we have to kill them before they kill us first. "
Legato steadies himself, raising a hand to ready an attack.
" Stay with me. I have means of stopping them, help me however you can-- "
He seldom asks for assistance in combat, but Legato understood one thing about this island: nothing was predictable, and the more guns drawn, the better the chance of survival.
@viladlind -> @astrallithid
