Bob trained relentlessly for hours. His movements were sharp and precise, the sword in his hand danced as if it were an extension of his body. Tunny stood nearby, mimicking his every gesture. The sound of their training echoed through the empty tunnel that served as their temporary shelter. Then something interrupted them.
It came suddenly.
A chilling gust of air swept past Bob, carrying with it a sharp stench of decay and metal. Bob instantly froze, his movements halting as if someone had flipped a switch. Tunny also stilled, his yellow eyes narrowing and glowing brighter, as though sensing a threat. There were almost no survivors near Bob, and those who were acted as if they couldn't see anything.
Bob tightened his grip on the hilt of his Sigiar sword. Tunny moved closer to him, his massive form ready to defend. A sound, like something heavy dragging against stone, began to echo from the darkness of the tunnel ahead.
And then they saw it.