The Fall of Falcon Scott (15)

Black pillars of smoke rose into the sky, obscuring the stars like a smoldering veil. Between the roiling dark heaven and the cold ravaged land, a fiery inferno seethed and swarmed, drowning the world in a scorching orange glow. Surrounded by numerous abominations and the cacophonous roar of heavy armaments, Sunny and Jet fought against the Devouring Cloud.

The wind was picking up.

Struggling not to slip on the fetid blood that covered the alloy expanse of the battlement, Sunny pulled Soul Reaper close and bent down, summoning a dome of shadows to surround them. His breathing was hoarse and labored.

There was no light inside the improvised shelter, and the brood beasts were already attacking it, the whole structure trembling under an onslaught of heavy blows. Worse still, he did not dare to sustain the barrier for more than a few seconds, afraid that the swarm would lose interest and shift its attention to the city beyond.

"I won't last much longer."