Eve
The blast slammed into his chest—sunfire and runes colliding with corrupted flesh.
Vassir shrieked, the sound splitting the air, rupturing the lights overhead. His body jerked back, limbs convulsing as radiant energy tore through him like a divine lance.
And then—
His wings snapped inward.
A flash of instinct—pure, primal, ancient.
They folded, twisted, wrapped around his trembling body like a coffin of sinew and shadow. Black veins bulged and writhed across the surface as the flesh hardened, fusing together into a pulsing mass.
A cocoon.
It sealed shut with a sick, slurping sound, the outer layers rippling with every tortured pulse inside.
Montegue lowered his weapon slightly, eyes narrowing at the grotesque sphere now hanging midair, suspended by thick tendrils of shadow gripping the fractured ceiling beams.
"Containment defense," he muttered. "Smart bastard."
"Gamma Unit—formation!" he barked, voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.
